The Choices that Form Your Life
by sharkgeek
Summary: Future!Fic: Santana and Brittany are off to university, ready to enjoy their time there. How do they deal with the life changing decisions that everyone has to navigate to become adults? GP Santana, M just in case
1. Chapter 1

This was suggested to me by **gleeeeeeeek89 **a couple of days ago, and given this was perfect procrastination material, I thought I'd give it a go. I won't tell you the whole prompt, as it will spoil it for anyone who isn't gleeeeeeeek89 :D

As ever, I don't own Glee, and this is a gp story, if you don't like, I wouldn't read any further.

I hope you like this, reviews, as ever, would be amazingly appreciated! :D

* * *

**Lima: 2008:**

Sex.

It's all Santana can think about.

That and how pretty Brittany looks.

Or how nice her new perfume smells (she smiled at Santana when she complimented her on it and whispered that it was _a woman's perfume _coming in a glass bottle and costing more than $10).

Or how the sun catches her hair or the freckles that are still dusted over her cheeks and nose, a gentle reminder of summer.

Unfortunately, this often leads back to sex.

Which leads to Santana, shifting uncomfortably in her chair in the suddenly boiling room, trying to pull the material at the crotch of her jeans away from the increasing hardness and muttering about dying kittens, bubonic plague pustules and hairy men's backs under her breath.

Unfortunately, Brittany will often turn around, just when Santana can breathe easily again, and flash her a soft smile that will instantly cause the room to heat up once again.

This had been going on for months, but Santana couldn't bring herself to ask Brittany out. She was worried that Brittany would say no.

Or that she would not only say no, but then tell everyone that Santana had even asked.

Or that she would say yes, but Santana would fuck it up.

Or that she would say yes out of obligation and realise she could do so much better than her.

Someone who wasn't a freak.

The sound of the bell jarred her teeth and she jumped slightly in her seat, her heart missing a beat when Brittany skipped over and leant over the table towards her, tank top dipping slightly causing Santana's throat to dry and her tongue to drag across her lips.

"Ready Sanny?" Santana forced her eyes to lift upwards and lock with blue eyes, slightly darker than usual, before she nodded and smiled. "Awesome. I asked mum to get some munchies in, and I rented some snuggle worthy movies yesterday. Sound good?" Santana's throat was still dry, and so she nodded once again before Brittany was haphazardly shoving Santana's books into her bag and dragging her out of the classroom.

* * *

"…he then, he said that my arse and rack were passable enough for him, and did I want to see his dad's new car." Brittany's voice was incredulous, and her nose wrinkled in disgust.

'_Fucking adorable' _Santana thought, smiling softly at Brittany who was laid out next to her, their feet bumping occasionally and their arms tangled. "I hope you told him to fuck off B."

Brittany snorted and pushed gently at Santana's side. "No, Sanny, I didn't. That would have been rude." Santana shrugged laughing softly. Brittany smiled and turned on her side, hand hovering by Santana's cheek. "I told him that," She swallowed audibly and licked her lips nervously. "That I have someone better."

Santana's head snapped to the side, a frown beginning to form, Brittany hadn't told her she was dated someone, or even that she liked someone, and Brittany told her _everything_, even the things she didn't want to know, like when she gave Puck a hand job at a party when they were both tipsy and Brittany was curious as to what it would feel like. Brittany smiled wide before pressing her palm to Santana's cheek and bringing their lips together.

It was Santana's first kiss.

That, and her shock, caused her let Brittany lead completely, leaning into the touch of her palm and soaking up the sense of _Brittany _that surrounded her.

Brittany, with her soft lips, just the right amount of wetness to slip gently over Santana's and her slightly calloused thumb (from years of bike riding, motocross, holding onto ballet Barres and gymnastics) brushing along Santana's cheekbone.

A moan seeped into the room, and Santana's eyes snapped open before she pushed Brittany away, her chest heaving, breaths coming out ragged and loud and she covered her crotch protectively with her hands. They were both in pyjamas and so the bulge that had formed between her legs would be immediately obvious even if Brittany didn't instantly look downwards and smirk slightly.

"What –" Santana took a gasp of air before running her hands through her hair, instantly moving them back down again when Brittany's smirk widened as she licked her lips. "What was that Britt? I mean…what _was_ that?"

A flash a hurt flickered through Brittany's eyes, her smirk falling, before she regained her previous confidence. "I see the way you look at me, and I hear you sometimes when we watch a movie and you mutter really gross things under your breath while hugging a pillow against yourself. And sometimes I can…well, I can _feel it_." Brittany's eyes fell to Santana's crotch once again for emphasis and Santana felt her face flood with heat, her eyes darting anywhere in the room but Brittany. "I don't mind Sanny." Brittany moved to cup Santana's cheek, but she moved away, until Brittany gripped her chin and forced Santana to look at her. "I kinda like it." Brittany's voice was quiet and innocent, and Santana frowned in confusion. "It's always nice to know that the person you like, likes you back in the same way." Santana's eyes widened in disbelief and she smiled softly.

"You like me?" Brittany nodded. "As more than a friend?" Brittany nodded again. "Really?" Brittany rolled her eyes and nodded again.

"Do I need to say it again?"

Santana laughed and shook her head, before removing her hands (luckily in her panic, she was no longer hard. Well, not hard enough to be noticed anyway) and pulled herself back next to Brittany. "So, um, do you, maybe want to, well, go out with me sometime? Like a date?" Brittany laughed loudly at the hesitancy in Santana's voice before kissing her gently on the cheek.

"I would love that Sanny."

* * *

**Lima: 1994-1999:**

Santana Carla Lopez was born, Santiago Carlos Lopez. He was born three weeks early, but strong and as active as any other new born. His parents were loving, if a little distant and adverse to obvious physical affection, and he spent his first year only in their company.

Then one morning, Mrs Lopez heard a knock on the door, and upon opening it was met with a tall, slim blonde holding a wriggling, smiling blonde baby girl.

"Hi! I'm Annie Pierce, our husbands work together, and Tom, my husband, mentioned you had a little boy around about my Brittany's age. I thought maybe they could have a play date? And we could get to know each other?" Mrs Lopez liked her insulated family, she was close with all her siblings and her parents, but Annie Pierce's smile was so wide and infectious, she couldn't help but smile slightly back.

"Sofia Lopez." Her smile only widened when Brittany's small gurgling's and inquisitive grabbing's intensified, and she heard a small '_oaf_' as Santiago had tried to reach out for Brittany, but failed. "And this," She picked him off the floor. "Is my little Santi." Santiago's eyes were wide, and he reached out for Brittany again, who had suddenly settled, content to tip her head and press her hands together, smile wide as ever. "Santiago, after his grandfather. Please come in." Annie nodded and walked through the doorway, waiting for Sofia to lead the way. Sofia pointed towards the front room where Annie set Brittany on the floor next to the small pile of toys, while Sofia placed Santiago on the floor by the front door, watching him quickly shuffle over to Brittany. The two babies sat and looked at each for several seconds before Brittany picked up the closest toy and held it out to Santiago, smiling softly when he took it, and passed it back to her.

"Aw love at first sight." Annie cooed watching the two interact and clasped her hands softly. Sofia smiled gently and nodded.

From that day, Annie would come around every day, sometimes staying and watching the two interact, sometimes leaving them in the play pen and sitting in the kitchen with Sofia, and Brittany and Santiago were inseparable. They started Pre-School together, where they were instantly popular and soon had a large group of female friends, but none were as close or important as the other.

Sofia and Carlos Lopez, however, were uncomfortable with this. They wanted Santiago to have male friends too, they worried if all of his friends were girls, and therefore all the games and toys he played were girl's games, he would be constantly bullied. Their concern only increased when Santiago and Brittany progressed to kindergarten, where once again, Santiago only had female friends.

It didn't help, either, that Santiago had more feminine features that were obvious even in the young four year old boys face. Sofia brought this concern up with Annie, whose talks had progressed to after work when they had collected the children from kindergarten. Annie just placed her hand gently over Sofia's and smiled gently.

"All that means, is that he will grow up to be one of those extremely handsome men that all the girls go crazy for." Sofia looked over to where Brittany was dressing Santiago in a pink scarf, that she assumed was supposed to be a tie, and pulling him over to Brittany's plastic kitchen, and sighed.

The Lopez's fears were cemented when Santiago was five years old.

He and Brittany were playing with a group of girls when three boys from the year above sauntered over. From what the adults could gather, through Brittany's tears and the older boy's denials, they had started calling Santiago names and pushed him and Brittany had retaliated by punching one of them on the nose (even at five, she was tall). When the boy realised he had been punched, not only by a five year old, but by a five year old _girl _no less, he went to punch her back. But Santiago had pushed Brittany out of the way, taking the punch on the side of his head and causing his body to slump onto the metal slide, slicing his head open and creating a large gash along his arm. Santiago (and Brittany who refused to let go of his hand) were rushed to the hospital and into surgery before anything worse could happen.

By the time Mr and Mrs Lopez (who worked at the neighbouring hospital) had hurried into the waiting room, Annie Pierce, with a whimpering Brittany in her lap, explained that Santiago had been in surgery for an hour. Although the medics in them knew that that wasn't very long, and time didn't indicate severity of the injury, the parents in them were panicking, every possible worst case scenario running through their heads. And so, when the surgeon pushed through the double doors, another hour later and an unreadable expression on her face, they gripped one another's hands and prepared themselves for the worst.

"Dr Lopez's?" Her voice was calm and soft, but reserved. "I've been working on your son, I wonder if you wouldn't mind accompanying me somewhere a little more private?" Annie smiled encouragingly before she squeezed Sofia's shoulder, and the Lopez's followed the surgeon through the doors into a small office. "First of all, Santiago is going to be fine. Cuts and bruises, a few stiches and a broken finger where he pushed his friend out of the way and then fell awkwardly on it. But he is going to be fine." Both parents let out a long breath that weren't aware they were holding.

"So, if he is going to be fine, why are you talking to us here?" Carlos' voice was calmer now, but the underlying fear was still noticeable to the two women in the room.

The surgeon took a deep breath and opened the file on the table. "Well, he lost a lot of blood, and he needed a transfusion during surgery. As I'm sure you are both aware, we type and cross, and well, there were some anomalies with the results. When Santiago was stable, I had the results double checked. The answer was the same." She turned the file around so that they could see the print out for themselves. "As you can see, although Santiago's reproductive system shows the expected XY chromosome in all those cells, all the rest of Santiago's somatic cells, show XX chromosomes." The Lopez's looked at the surgeon with wide eyes. "Santiago, except for his gonads, is a girl. It explains the feminine features, and I was told he got hurt partly because of his preference for playing with girls?" The surgeon paused, waiting for the two doctors in front of her to confirm. "Well, that could also be explained by this, and perhaps, Santiago's knowledge and feeling that he is more of a girl than a boy." The parents were mute. They didn't know what to think or what to do and they gripped tightly to one another. "I know it's a lot to take in. But, given everything the genetic tests show us, and what I've been told by my nurse, who spoke to both children, I would recommend raising Santiago as a girl." Sofia nodded slowly. "Especially as there is a very high chance, that when Santiago reaches puberty, Santiago's voice will not break and will form breasts, something that will be harder to hide as a boy than a penis as a girl." The room fell silent as both parents tried to take in everything they had just been told. "I'm going to let you think this over, stay here as long as you wish, and I'm here for any questions you will have. I also have the genetic specialist's number if you wish to speak to him too. Just let me know." The surgeon stood up, leaving the file on the table and was about to walk out when Carlos' voice stopped her.

"Wait, will Santiago's um," He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Is everything, functional?"

"Well, there is no tissue or nerve damage, so I feel confident in saying that penile erection will be more than probable and possible, but, and this is very preliminary and will need to be checked when Santiago is older, there is a very low chance of being fertile." Carlos looked down at the floor as Sofia nodded. The doctor returned the nod before walking out through the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, both parents turned to one another and let their hands separate. The yelling started shortly after, blaming each other for what had happened, and going round in circles. After an hour, Carlos suddenly fell silent, tears welling in his eyes and beginning to fall down his face. The shout that was about to come from Sofia, died on her lips and she rushed over to her husband, pulling him into her.

"My little boy. My poor little boy. I hated seeing him come home all the time, so sad. I just thought, he would get tougher, start making some friends with the other boys in his class. Stop playing kitchen and ballet class and dolls with Brittany. I didn't know. I didn't know he felt like a girl inside." He took a deep shuddering breath, Sofia's soft hand, rubbing circles into his back calming him down. He stood up straight, pulling the last of his tears from his eyes before clasping both of his wife's hands in his own. "I think we should do what the doctor recommends. Let Santiago be a girl. He, _she_ looks more like a little girl than a little boy, everyone says so, and all her friends and games are girls. I think we should change schools. Let her start again."

The room was silent, and Carlos suddenly panicked that his wife was going to disagree, going to think Carlos had lost his faith in God for wanting to re-invent their boy as a girl. Sofia didn't want to admit that something like this could happen to her child, but she had to admit, everything made sense. How feminine Santiago looked, the games, his, _her_, friends. The way her eyes would light up at all of Brittany's pretty clothes.

She nodded and kissed her husband on the cheek. "Santana."

Carlos frowned and shook his head. "What?" He asked, pulling away from his wife to look at her properly.

"Santana, Santana Carla Lopez. It sounds nice, don't you think?" Carlos nodded and smiled wide, before they walked back out into the waiting room.

* * *

Sofia took Santana shopping the next day, and watched her face light up at all the bright colours and different textures of the dresses and skirts and blouses. She still wanted to keep her jeans and her dungarees and her t-shirts, but now they sat surrounded by their new feminine clothes too.

She spent hours trying on her new clothes and showing her father when he returned home from the hospital. Carlos was taking the transition better than even he thought he would. He was so pleased and proud when he held his little boy, but seeing his little girl, so happy, happier than he had ever seen Santiago, pushed his misgivings aside. That and the lengthy discussion he and Sofia had had with their priest (who had listened to everything, and along with his own knowledge of Santiago, agreed with their decision, assuring them that God wouldn't judge them for doing what is best for their child, especially when God had a hand in making Santana inter sexed in the first place) made him wonder that he had never seen that he had a little girl in the first place.

Two weeks later, her hair newly styled more feminine cut, she started at her new school.

The only drawback was she didn't have Brittany.

Her parents had explained that she couldn't tell anyone how different she was, and that included Brittany, but it didn't make her miss the blonde any less.

* * *

Brittany missed Santiago terribly. She didn't even get to see him after the doctors had made him better. Her mother (who had been told by the Lopez's that they thought Santiago turning over a new leaf with new friends at a new school) had explained carefully that he was okay, but had to move away to be happy without bullies.

She hated school without Santiago, the other girls weren't as fun to play with, weren't as inventive or as carefree to make up stories with her and there was no one to whisper how clever she was when Brittany pointed out a flower or cloud shape in the sky.

So a few weeks after Santiago's accident, a determined five year old Brittany, wriggled through the gap at the bottom of the fence at the end of the day and ran to Santiago's house. She reached the door, red faced and out of breath, pushing onto her tip toes to reach the door knocker.

When Sofia opened the door, and saw Brittany, her initial instinct was to close the door immediately, but seeing that the little girl was completely by herself, she paused. The pause was long enough for Santana to approach the door in curiosity, and for Brittany to see past Sofia to where Santana was standing, a shy smile on her face at seeing Brittany.

Brittany darted underneath Sofia's arm that was still holding the door open, and flung her arms Santana's neck. "Santi! I've missed you so much!" Brittany squeezed her once more before stepping back and studying her friend. "Why are you wearing a dress Santi? I mean, you look very pretty, but I thought boys weren't supposed to wear dresses?" She tilted her head to the side curiously.

Santana dropped her eyes to the floor and started to pull and twist at her fingers. "I'm not a boy anymore Britty. And I have a new name. Santana."

Brittany didn't even hesitate when she answered. "That's a really pretty name." Brittany reached out a tugged at the white blouse Santana was wearing. "You're a really pretty girl Sanny. A much prettier girl than a boy." Santana looked up and smiled widely, not having expected this reaction; her parents told her people would think it was weird if they knew and she could understand that. But Brittany just told her her new name was pretty. That _she _was pretty. That she was a better girl than a boy, her transition not bothering Brittany at all.

"Really?" Santana whispered. Brittany nodded, rocking on her heels a little.

She took Santana's hand, about to pull her up to her bedroom to play, when she suddenly heard her mother's voice in her head reminding her about manners and she turned back to where Sofia still stood at the door, shocked at the little blonde's reaction. "Dr Lopez can I go and play with Sanny please? Wait," Brittany turned back to Santana worried. "You still want to be my best friend right? Just 'cos you changed your outside doesn't mean you don't like me anymore right?"

"You're still my best friend Britty."

"Score." Brittany turned back to Sofia. "So can we?" Sofia nodded mutely, before watching Brittany pull a beaming Santana up the stairs behind her. She shook her head in a mixture of amusement and amazement, before walking into the kitchen to call Annie and tell her that Brittany was safe.

* * *

Annie had taken Santiago's transition to Santana surprisingly well. At first she was shocked, and laughed a little, sure that Sofia was joking. But when she heard the distinctive thumping of her daughter coming down the stairs and turned to greet Brittany, she saw the truth of Sofia's words. Next to Brittany, clutching nervously onto her hand at Annie's curious gaze, was Santiago. But with slightly longer hair, falling softer around her face and wearing a pretty light coloured skirt and blouse; definitely Santana, not Santiago any more. Annie still hadn't said anything, and turned to look at Sofia, who was clasping her hands in her lap and her eyes were flickering between the two girls and Annie in worry. Annie softened, seeing the fear in Sofia's eyes and the way Santiago (no, Santana, she corrected herself) couldn't meet her eyes, sideling closer towards Brittany as if for protection.

Annie smiled. "Hello Santana. You look very pretty in your new skirt." Annie saw Sofia's shoulders relax out of the corner of her eyes, and Santana smiled wide.

"Thank you Mrs Pierce."

"Mum? Do I have to go yet? Me and Sanny were half way through a tea party. Please can I stay longer?"

"If that's okay with Sofia," Sofia nodded and smiled, so relieved at not only Brittany, but Annie's reaction, she was sure she would agree to anything. "Then you can stay a bit longer. Go and enjoy your game girls." Annie loved the way Santana's face brightened and her smiled grew impossibly bigger at being addressed as a girl, watching Brittany pull her back up the stairs.

* * *

Brittany still hated without being Santana at school, and after escaping through the gap in the chain link fence and running to Santana's school three times in two weeks, the Pierce's looked into Brittany changing to Santana's school.

After two weeks and a very long (and boring, Brittany thought) conversation about how Brittany could never tell anyone that Santana used to be a boy and still had some boy parts, Brittany and Santana walked into the school, pinkie fingers linked. Once again inseparable, but this time, content to be friends with just each other.

Santana had become a lot more reserved since the fight in the playground, and found it harder to make friends at her new school, and so, every day, it was just her and Brittany.

And she wouldn't change that for anything.

* * *

**Lima: Late 2011:**

"San! San! Where are you?" As soon as she saw it, white and intimidating and exciting, Brittany had grabbed it from the kitchen table and ran to Santana's house. "Saaaaan!"

"Brittany! Please stop yelling! She's upstairs in her room." Sofia was used to Brittany's over-exuberance and was expecting her this morning, but that didn't make her yell any less painful.

Brittany grinned sheepishly, a dusting of pink highlighting the freckles along her cheeks. "Sorry Mrs Dr L." She showed what was in her hands as an explanation, before running up the stairs, taking them two at a time and bursting through Santana's bedroom door.

Santana was only half way dressed when Brittany burst in, half leant over her bed to pick up her bra, and Brittany momentarily forgot what she was there for. "Wow." She couldn't help the small movement of her tongue running over her lips and unashamed staring at Santana's exposed chest, until her hands instinctively clenched into fists and the sharp rustle of paper brought her back to her senses. She blushed darker, both at what she could see and the excitement from what was possibly clutched in her hands. "Mine came. I haven't opened it, like we agreed. I came straight here, as soon as I saw it on the kitchen table." She was stopped by a loud burst of laughter from Santana, and she frowned slightly in confusion. "What? What's so funny? I don't get it?"

Santana quickly pulled her bra on before walking over towards Brittany. She leant forward and pushed her hands into the pockets of Brittany's trousers. Brittany's trousers covered in multi-coloured ducks and rainbows bursting from white fluffy clouds. "You're still in your PJ's Britty." Santana said sweetly.

Brittany looked down, and smiled coyly. "Oh, yeah, well, I might've gotten a little, overenthusiastic. Do you have your letter too?" Santana swallowed heavily and walked over to her side table, where the large, thick white envelope with 'University of Berkeley, California' and the seal was immediately obvious. Brittany held up her own, flipped it so that the flap of the envelope faced her. "Do you want to open your own or do you want to open mine, and me open yours?"

Santana cleared her throat, eyes flickering between her own envelope and Brittany's, before looking back up into Brittany's eyes, her blue, comforting eyes. "No, open our own."

Brittany nodded, about to push her thumb under the flap. "Together?" Santana nodded once, curtly, lifting her slightly shaky hand to the flap of her own envelope. "On three, one, two, three." The room was silent except from the sound of sticky paper being pulled apart, then the rustling of pages being pulled out and read, quickly, looking for the single line that would determine the next few years of their life.

Brittany looked up first; Santana's eyes were still flickering all over the page, but Brittany didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, as Brittany was a much slower reader than Santana. One of the many drawbacks of being dyslexic. Santana could feel Brittany's eyes on her, and she slowly lifted her own. She reached out and held Brittany's hand between them.

"Well?" Santana's voice was forcibly calm, monotonic, and Brittany couldn't tell anything. She wasn't sure she could speak, so instead she turned the page around so Santana could read it.

"Dear Miss Pierce," Santana's voice was tiny, quiet as she mumbled out loud the words she was reading. "We are delighted to offer you a place at the University of Stanford to study Philosophy, for the winter semester of 2012." Santana stopped reading, then began again, louder and clearer, before she pulled Brittany towards her whispering congratulations into her ear and pressing kisses to her hair and cheeks and forehead. Brittany couldn't stop the giggles escaping, but soon gripped Santana's forearms, pushing their bodies apart.

"Did you," Brittany swallowed, she wasn't sure if Santana's reluctance to tell her what her letter said, and her over enthusiasm about Brittany gaining her place was to make Brittany forget about the Berkeley letter or because she had also got her place. "Did you get in?" Santana smiled before she turned the letter around for Brittany, who could only focus on the one word. _Accepted _"You got in!" Santana nodded before throwing both of their letters onto her bed and tugging Brittany towards her by her hips, lips crashing together instantly. "Sanny, we're going to California together!" Santana nodded enthusiastically, still unsure of her voice and Brittany's smile morphed into a smirk as her right hand travelled between their bodies, down Santana's soft, exposed stomach, and over the front of her boxers. The smirk widening, both pairs of eyes darkening when Brittany squeezed gently and felt Santana respond. "How about we celebrate?" Another squeeze, followed by single finger running down the cotton of her increasingly tight boxers, caused Santana's breath to catch in her throat, before navigating Brittany towards the bed.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!

So, I'm sorry if my university timing and courses weren't accurate. I spent about 2 hours trying to navigate all of the university websites and Google maps trying to figure out geographically would be the best ones, and then trying to figure out which courses they would actually be eligible for, which, given I'm not American, was actually quite difficult, so if I've done something a little…wrong, just go with it please!

Should I continue? Let me know :D Review please? ^.^


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: To hmp: When I looked on the website, it was unclear if it was an undergrad or a graduate…especially as I'm not familiar with the US system, but I've changed it. Thanks for the correction :D

All mistakes are my own (no beta ect) so let me know if you spot any glaring ones :)

I hope you all enjoy this, thanks to **gleeeeeeeek89 **for keeping me motivated haha, also reviews would be crazy appreciated. Please? ^.^

* * *

**Berkeley, California: September 2012:**

Santana, followed by her parents, kept glancing between the neatly folded square of paper in her hand and the hallway she was walking along. In her other hand, she was half dragging half carrying her bag, while her father carried a box of kitchen utensils and her mother had two spare blankets and the pillow that somehow always managed to smell like Brittany squashed in her arms. They climbed up to the second floor and Santana quickened her pace in excitement. This was her floor; she was approaching what was going to be her room for at least the next year. The corridor stretched impossibly long before her, a wide maw ready to swallow her, each door a sharpened tooth ready to pierce her and never let go.

She slowed about halfway along the corridor and stopped in front of one of the closed doors, heavily knotted wood with many shinny spots from years of greased fingers touch and small notches missing all along the frame. A small corkboard, empty even of pins and oddly intimidating hung above the number 2-5 that surrounded the peep hole. She looked back down to the paper in her hand again before turning towards her parents and leaning her bag against the wall. "This is my room."

Her father nodded absentmindedly trying to the hide the tears that were threatening at the edges of his eyes while her mother smiled gleefully, more than excited for all three of them. Santana looked between both of her parents before she nodded once and reached for the handle. It was cool and rough underneath her palm, but she gripped her fingers firmly around it, pulling downwards and pushing.

The room was smaller than she expected, especially as it was so sparsely furnished, and there was only a single desk. She frowned slightly, hopping that whoever her roommate was, they would be willing to work out a schedule for the desk use.

"Hey, it's bigger than _my _first room. Remember Sofia?" Sofia smiled, her cheeks turning a shade darker before nodding. "Although, you may have to be accommodating with the desk Santana, you can't get a new room just because you can't reach a compromise."

Santana smirked. "I know dad. And, um thanks for helping me get my stuff and driving up with me." Both Dr Lopez' smiled at the clumsy way Santana was trying to express a heartfelt goodbye and thanks.

Carlos pulled his daughter in for a bear hug, before he reached out an open hand for Sofia, who slightly more hesitantly, placed her arm around Santana's shoulders and kissed the crown of her head. "You'll have an amazing time here Santana, and you're close to Brittany, but fair enough away to be your own people too. I know you don't like being away from her, but it was a mature and wise decision to let yourselves settle in for a little while." Santana nodded into his shoulder and felt her mother's arm squeeze a little tighter.

"Okay, well, we are going to go, you won't need our help to unpack your things, especially as you may have to move them around when your roommate gets here anyway." Sofia's voice was curt, but her smile was soft and her eyes were shinning slightly and Santana pulled her in for a short, tight hug and kissed her cheek.

"Yeah, and I'll um, see you guys at Thanksgiving." They both nodded, and Carlos hugged her once more before they both walked back out into the corridor, closing the door behind them.

* * *

As soon as she had unpacked the essentials she would need over the next couple of days (she always hated unpacking, but, before Brittany would always be there to do it for her) she slumped down on her bed, sighing loudly. After several minutes of staring at the ceiling, she decided to go for a run and try and work off some of her nervous energy.

The planned forty-five minute run, took her close to four hours.

There were just so many beautiful buildings. Clean, white brick, towering high above her with dark pink roofs, entrances that even Finnocence would have no problem fitting through, steps surrounded by trees with fragile pink blossoms on them that made the air around her hum with their perfume, intricate, delicate mouldings and additions to otherwise plain bricks.

She was in awe.

And she hadn't even stepped inside one of the buildings yet.

She was also trying to think how she could hide the fact that she had a penis to her roommate. Someone she was likely to be spending a fair amount of time with, and wearing compression pants all the time was both bad for her health and incredibly uncomfortable. Plus, when Brittany came to visit it would be almost impossible to hide how her body reacted to her girlfriend.

_Shit._

_What if her roommate was homophobic? _Santana stopped abruptly, her knee twinging uncomfortably at the suddenness, before she shook her head at herself. That wouldn't be a problem, not in California, and not when she would be able to request a room change if that happened.

It was getting significantly darker, and Santana decided that continuing her run around a campus that was both huge and completely foreign to her, would be a bad idea. So she turned and headed back, once again letting her gaze linger on the buildings she passed, soaking in the shadows they threw and how the dying light reflected off some of them. She reached the doorway of her dorm, and pulled at her loose running shorts, making sure nothing was obvious before pushing the door open. She took the stairs two at a time, so preoccupied trying to think of all the ways she could hide her addition that she surprised herself when she reached her door. She unlocked it and pushed it open, thoughts still churning, when her hand registered she was pressing on paper. She lifted her hand slightly, seeing an official looking envelope taped to her door.

Her heart stopped.

The letter was going to tell her that this was a mistake. She wasn't smart enough to be here, let alone on her course.

She was too much of a freak, and the university had decided that they didn't want her type here.

There were better, nicer, more useful people that they would rather have at the university instead of her and she had an hour to clear out and go back to Lima.

She still couldn't breathe properly, still poised in the doorway, when she felt her phone vibrate on her hip. It shook her out of her internal panic, and she ripped the envelope from the door, walking into the room and kicking the door shut behind her.

She looked at the screen of her phone, a smile teasing at her lips as she pressed accept. "Oh my God Sanny! This place is AMAZING!" Santana couldn't help her laugh at Brittany's enthusiasm, then the background noises registered with Santana.

"Wait, B, are you at a party?"

"Suuure am! My roommate, she was here last year, but had to repeat with her change of major…or something, either way, she has lots of friends and invited all the new people on our course and most of the floor, and the floor above. And below." Santana dropped onto her bed, fingering the still sealed envelope; _of course Britt would have made friends on the first day._ "I just wanted to call my gorgeous girlfriend and check that she was okay before I got either too drunk to work my phone, or too tired to work my phone, or something." Brittany's voice was already slightly slurred and the way she kept rambling suggested she was already half way to drunk.

"You mean like call the wrong person for phone sex?" Santana's voice was amused as she thought back.

* * *

**Lima: Early 2012:**

Rachel heard a phone vibrate on the table, and huffed, glaring at Tina, Santana and Mercedes for daring to leave their phone on during their important 'Let's get Mr Shue married' planning session, when she realised it was her own.

She picked it up without even looking at the screen as the other three girls returned to the sheets spread over the bed covered with scribbles in many scripts and many colours, already disinterested, sure that it was just Finn. "Hello?" Her voice was subdued from her surprise, and before she could open her mouth to repeat her greeting, the person on the other end of the line spoke.

"I am so horny right now S." Rachel's mouth popped open in a small 'o' shape, unable to stop the continuing flow of words into her ear. "Like, soaked. I want you so bad, I would love to pull at your hair as you go down on me, I know how much you love that. And your tongue is crazy talented, that I know I scream your name as I come. Then I would totally return the favour, pushing you onto your back, then slide down your body, maybe stopping at your tits, my hand going into your boxers –"

"Stop! Oh God Brittany stop!" Rachel's yell caused all three of them to look up at her in surprise, and at the sound of her girlfriend's name, Santana's eyes went wide, instantly darting forward to pull the phone from Rachel's ear.

"B! Why are you calling Manhands?"

"Sanny?" Brittany's voice was confused, and extremely slurred. "Wait…why do you sound different? And why didn't you play sweet lady sexy phone times with me?" Even through her obvious inebriation, Brittany managed to work a hurt pout into her voice.

"Because, Hunny, you rang Manhands, _not _me. Wait. You," Santana narrowed her eyes and glanced around the room before turning her back on the others and lowering her voice. "You were trying to have phone sex with her? Shit Brittany! What did you say?"

"Um…I don't really remember S, my memory left me about 4 shots and 5 mixed drinks ago. Mike, Puck and Sam and um, oh! Me, we were walking on the…no, wait _working _on the choreography but then Puck starting pouring shots and we got distracted. Then I got horny, but you weren't here so I had to call you." Santana felt her shoulders tense, thinking of all the ways she could explain away anything…unexpected Brittany might have said. Brittany could tell that Santana was annoyed with her, but she couldn't quite figure out why (even though she was sure she _should _know). "I'm sorry Sanny. I really don't remember. I think I'm just going to go to sleep, Mike said I could share his bed 'cos he loves Tina so he said that you don't have to worry about him doing anything." Santana grunted slightly, which Brittany took as agreement before she whispered. "I love you Santana."

Santana sighed. If she had let anything slip, it wasn't Brittany's fault. She would still be sure to slap Puck around the head tomorrow, though. "I love you too B. Get some sleep, and tell Mike, if he ever wants to have children with Tina, he will keep his hands to himself. Night." Santana disconnected, before taking a deep breath and stalking over towards Rachel. She towered over the still seated girl and put her hands on her hips, best Head Cheerio glare securely plastered on. "What. Did. Brittany. Say. To. You. Exactly. Plain English, no Berry-ramblings. Go."

Rachel's eyes widened and her face and neck flushed a deep red. Santana would have laughed at how embarrassed she was if the situation wasn't so serious. Rachel swallowed loudly before she answered. "Um she said that she um wanted me, you, and that she was um," Rachel glanced at the others before lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Soaked for me, you, and that she would scream my, your, name and wanted to pull my, your, hair as I, you, um, went, um," Rachel pointed down her body and Santana nodded once to show she understood. Rachel was mortified, and closed her mouth with a snap.

"Anything else?"

"Um, she started talking about what she wanted to do to me, um, you," Santana's eyes widened, and Rachel was sure she saw a flicker of fear pass through her eyes. "But I stopped her! That's when I yelled and you took the phone. I promise all I heard was that she wanted to return the favour. I promise on…on," Rachel swung her head around her room desperately. "On my Barbara ultimate collection I stopped her before she said anything about you!" Santana stared Rachel down, until she was sure that she had told her everything and the truth before she stepped back to where Tina and Mercedes were sat with a look of shook plastered on their face.

"Fine. You will not tell anyone about this." All three nodded. "Oh, and Tina, I hope you trust your man, because he and Britt are sharing a bed." It was almost worth the shocked look on Tina's face.

Almost.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: September 2012:**

"One time Sanny! One time and you won't let me forget!" Brittany tried to sound offended, but her giggle burst through anyway.

Santana couldn't help the small snort of laughter either. "Looking back on it, it was pretty funny listening to Berry try and talk about sex. She went so red, like her whole face and her neck. I'll let you go and enjoy your party B. I love you. Speak to you tomorrow yeah?"

"Promise S. Just not too early. I love you too Santana. Sweet dreams my beautiful lady." Brittany disconnected the conversation, and Santana looked at her phone, smiling slightly. Suddenly the letter, still unopened in her hand, flooded back and the serenity slipped from her system like slick un-lathered soap, a cold sweat prickling at her skin. She ripped the envelope open, figuring the quicker she got it over and done with, the least like home this place would feel, and surprisingly steady hands pulled out the single sheet.

'_Dear Miss Lopez,_

_The housing faculty have decided, that given your unusual physical anatomy and the accompanying requirements, you will have your own room. We hope that this will allow you to tell whom you wish when you wish and will enable you to remain confident and happy, able to fully enjoy your time at this school. Should there be any problems please, don't hesitate to contact your dorm leader, posted on the main notice board on your dorm floor._

_Bernadette Hanley_

_Head of Housing'_

Santana read the letter several times before the words sunk in. She couldn't believe her luck, not only was she not getting kicked out, she was getting her own room. Because the faculty realised how much of a problem her appearance could be due to other people's bigotry. She couldn't believe how different this school was; although all the faculty had had to know about her addition at McKinley (unfortunately, they had to just in case there was ever an accident or an emergency) but Santana could tell that she disgusted many of the teachers and some would even go as far as to hint at it during classes.

They would never have thought about how difficult this was for her. Except, surprisingly for Sue Sylvester (although Santana wasn't naïve enough to believe that it was only because of what Santana could do for Sue and not really out of any real kindness) who would often interrupt teachers before their hints became closer to statements.

She smiled goofily as she stepped into the small shower, singing loudly, a warm happy tingling feeling spreading throughout her body, that for once, had very little to do with Brittany, and everything to do with getting out of Lima.

* * *

Santana loved her classes.

Like, adored them.

In her politics, gender studies and LGBT studies classes she got to debate with everyone, including her professors. They didn't mind what her opinion was, that was the point of the classes, so long as she listened to others (and, when they weren't attacking her, she was actually a really good listener). And the best thing was, she wasn't just brushed aside as a loud mouthed bitch, and she didn't feel the need to hide her sexuality, she was respected.

Her _opinion _was respected.

Her English Literature classes allowed her to explore and discuss and pick at writers from all time periods, picking them apart to find new meanings to the words. And the logic in her biology classes was calming and completely different from all of her others.

She loved her classes.

But she missed Cheerios.

For the first month, she would watch as many practises as possible at Berkeley from on top of the bleachers; but soon that was too hard making her heart ache, and she stopped. She was able to be on the Cheerios due to a surprisingly sympathetic Sue Sylvester, although, in hindsight, Santana figured that Sue allowed her on the team for the benefits her slightly elevated testosterone levels could provide. But here, at Berkeley, whether she could compete or not, wasn't down to one person, and there was no way she could pass the physical and medical tests.

Plus, there were no single person showers (Sue always was good at diverting as much money as she wanted into her Cheerios' fund, and when Santana started, Sue installed enough showers for every single Cheerio to have her own) or no Brittany to keep look out for her, and suddenly jump between Santana's crotch and whoever was interrupting them.

She had spoken to Brittany about this after the first couple of weeks, her frustration and disappointment that had been simmering just below the surface suddenly exploding in loud sobs that originally shocked Brittany into silence.

"San? Santana what's wrong Hunny?" Santana tried to calm her tears, taking deep breaths which just shuddered back into sobs. "It's okay San, just, let it all out, I'm still here, I'm not going anywhere." Brittany continued cooing into the phone for almost half an hour before Santana had calmed herself completely. Brittany almost promised to travel to Berkeley, but she knew that Santana wouldn't want her to miss her classes and that by the time she had made to the train station, the journey and then getting from the station to Santana's dorm would take forever, almost to the point of uselessness.

"Oh God, I'm sorry Britt, you must think me pathetic. I just, I never thought I would, but I miss Cheerios. It felt really good to belong to something you know?"

"You're not pathetic. I could never think you were pathetic. I understand Sanny, I couldn't wait to join gymnastics here, and three of the dancing groups. Have you thought about joining any clubs Santana?"

Santana scoffed kicking half heartedly at the carpet. "Like what B? I can't join any of the sports teams, I joined the debate team, but I don't have anything in common with them. Except that I like to argue, and that doesn't make a great friendship."

Brittany laughed in agreement. "Yeah, that would be like you and Rachel being best friends."

"Exactly Britt."

"Well," Brittany paused, she didn't want to make Santana feel uncomfortable, but at the same time, she knew that this could be beneficial. "I um, joined a new club yesterday. And it's really good. I think that you would enjoy it."

"What club Britt?"

Brittany pulled at her comforter worriedly before she took a deep breath and puffed out. "LGBTQ."

Santana paused, from the hesitancy in Brittany voice she hadn't been sure that she had wanted to hear Brittany's suggestion. She smiled a little and turned towards her bedside table, where a bright orange flyer was tucked underneath her copy of Blake's '_Songs of Innocence and Experience_'. "That's a good idea B. Why did you think I wouldn't like that suggestion. I'm out here, and I take an LGBT class."

Brittany shrugged on the other end of the phone, picking at the threads of her sweatpants before she remembered Santana couldn't see her. "I don't know. I mean, I know all that, but it just…it took you a long time to…be yourself, I –"

Santana closed her eyes, shame and self anger pulsing in the fingers holding the phone. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I took so long to realise what we had and then I hid us until Finnept outed me. But I promise Britt, everyone not only knows I'm gay, but that I have a beautiful, smart, sexy girlfriend too. Who I'm madly in love with and madly proud of."

Brittany smiled, her face heating and cheeks reddening, even though Santana wasn't there. "So, you'll join?" Santana looked down at the flyer again, where 'Berkeley LGBTQ Association and Berkeley Gay Straight Alliance' was printed along the top.

"Yeah Britt, I will. Now, go to bed beautiful."

"You too, can't have your brain getting over tired. Sweet dreams Hunny. Love you."

"Love you too Britt."

* * *

Santana was standing outside a dark wood door, the beautifully smooth swirls twisting around pale knots and the fluorescent hallway lights reflecting her outline on the wood was intimidating and it remained stubbornly closed. The flyer was still gripped in her hand as she shuffled from foot to foot in order to work up the courage to open the door.

It wasn't that she ashamed of being gay, or to be seen around other queer people.

Not anymore.

She had gotten over that by necessity and a lot of help from Brittany when the advert was spread all across Ohio and her Abuela bared her from her home.

But this was new. She had never been around so many people who were gay or bisexual or transgender or any other form of sexuality and gender expression.

What if they didn't like her?

Or what if she wasn't gay enough, and they didn't believe her? She didn't want to have to spend her time defending and explaining herself; she was so sick of doing that.

What if none of them talked to her?

She had almost persuaded herself out of pushing through the door, when she felt someone watching her. She turned, readying herself for some snarky homophobic comment, but was instead met with a smiling blonde.

Who waved at her.

"Hi. You here for the LGBTQ club?" Santana nodded, then shrugged, nervously dropping her gaze and starting to twist and tear nervously at the bottom of the flyer. "Well, how about, you come in with me?" Santana's gaze instantly jumped back to the girl's eyes and she took a subconscious step back.

"I have a girlfriend." Santana's eyes flickered down the other girl's body. "Who is a much hotter blonde than you."

The girl laughed loudly before taking a step towards Santana, her hands raised as if in surrender. "That wasn't what I meant. I meant, how about you come into the meeting with me. I can introduce you to my friends. Purely plutonic." She put her hand over her heart holding the other outwards, palm facing Santana. "Honest."

Santana felt her face heat up, glad for her Latina skin preventing her blush from being obvious. "Oh, um, sorry…I didn't…sorry."

"Don't worry about. Alice Lanyon. Geography with a minor in Gender and Woman's Studies." She held out her hand, which Santana hesitantly reached out and shook.

"Santana Lopez. Undecided, but leaning towards Political Science."

* * *

Santana felt amazing. Absolutely amazing. Like she could walk on water and float with the clouds and sing with birds in the trees that she was constantly, beautifully surrounded by on campus. She couldn't even wait until she reached her dorm room before she rang Brittany.

"Hey San."

"Brittany Susan Pierce, you are a genius and the best girlfriend ever."

Brittany giggled softly. "Are you drunk Santana? It's only 9pm. And a Wednesday."

"No Britt, I just finished my first LBGT meeting. It was awesome. There were loads of people there, all on different courses and stuff, but it didn't matter, and I made a friend. She's called Alice. She's taking me out with her friends this weekend."

"Yeah?" Santana hummed in agreement. "I'm so pleased! Wait, she's not hotter than me right?"

"Pfft! Impossible B."

"Good. I'm glad you've made some friends Santana, and you better introduce me when I come to visit for Halloween!"

"Of course Britt."

Santana reached her room, unlocked it and collapsed into her desk chair, pushing at the desk edge so she was gently swaying side to side. She should probably start her essay that she had been putting off for the week or get an early night in preparation for the early morning run and class she had; but talking to Brittany was much more enjoyable.

* * *

Santana was fiddling nervously with her keys and alternatively pacing along the platform and burning holes in the arrival board. Brittany's train would be pulling in in (another glance at the board and the clock) 13 minutes and 45, 44, 43 seconds and Santana's heart beat was rapidly increasing in nerves and excitement with every passing second.

It had been close to six weeks since they had seen each other, and although Santana had fitted into Berkeley life much better and much quicker than she thought she would, she still missed Brittany desperately.

Every time she won an argument in debate team meetings, she wanted to rush to Brittany and share how proud she felt of herself (and often her shock too) and every time she lost or became frustrated at her assigned viewpoint or at the counter arguments, she wanted to rush to Brittany and feel the comforting, strong warmth of Brittany's arms around her body and the constant thump her heart beat synced perfectly with her own.

She loved her LGBTQ meetings and the social events they planned (although, she still wasn't quite brave or comfortable enough to be anything other than an observer or lesser participant, she could feel the constant pressure of shame or unease or discomfort lessen every day) and enjoyed spending time with such a wide range of personalities that still understood such a big part of herself without it having to be explained.

She loved hearing stories, especially, from transgendered members, although she knew their situations weren't exactly the same, she wasn't born in the wrong body so much as a result of a genetic mutation of some of her cells. But she was fascinated (and, if she was completely honest with herself comforted) listening to others whose biological bodies didn't necessarily match their gender identity or expressed outward identity. She would try and remember every detail of every story, so that she could tell Brittany, wishing the instead, Brittany could listen too.

Could hold her hand or stroke down her back when the stories would turn to the more violent and painful parts of the speakers life. Alice was becoming a great friend; but she wasn't Brittany.

Brittany, too, was elated at Santana's branching out, pleased (and, to be honest a little surprised) that her plan was working so well. It had been Brittany's suggestion to not see each other in person until Halloween. She told Santana it was so that they could save as much money as possible and get used to their respective campuses before showing them off to the other.

But really, Brittany realised that Santana needed to be her own person and realise that she _could _be her own person. Brittany could read people easily, and she knew that many of Santana's friends at McKinley had been a result of her being Brittany's other half, not being able to get past Santana's abrasive surface personality. She needed to realise that people liked her for her, and Brittany needed to let people see that.

The only way Brittany could think to do that, was by having a period of separation. Plus, she wasn't lying when she said she loved her classes.

She gushed to Santana on the phone about how exciting her classes were, she still found some of the academics difficult, but her practical classes, assessing athletes and devising movement programs and stretching exercises, she excelled in. She was involved in so many different clubs too, invited to many parties and had amassed a large group of friends. '_But none as important as you Sanny. Don't forget that'_ Brittany would intone every time Santana fell silent at the mention of a new friend or new party.

Santana looked up at the board once again, still several minutes before the train was due in, and she huffed in annoyance, shoving her hands deep into her jacket pockets. She looked off to the side of the platform, trying to distract herself by watching the bird that was perched on a nearby tree, but it soon flew off and she huffed again, kicking at the closest metal bench.

A little over three minutes to go.

She ran her fingers nervously through her hair, suddenly panicking that she wasn't wearing enough makeup in the right places to look her best for Brittany. That she could have chosen a better pair of jeans or a tighter shirt or heels so that she would be the same height as Brittany. She was so preoccupied by bemoaning how she could have improved her first impression, that she jumped at the sound of a series of doors slamming open, turning with wide eyes to find the grimy, silver tube of a train already stopped along the platform.

Suddenly her breath was properly passing through her bronchi and her palms were stinging and sweaty and her hair felt too heavy along her neck. Her eyes flickered quickly between all of the doors, desperately searching, and trying to guess what Brittany would be wearing.

None of her mental images, however, matched the real thing. As soon as Brittany stepped off the train, their eyes met, like every clichéd romantic story and Santana's heart swelled at the wide grin with soft eyes and glowing skin upon Brittany's face.

* * *

"I missed you, I missed you so much." Brittany's words were muffled against Santana's lips and the hand that wasn't rhythmically squeezing at Brittany's hip, was fumbling with her key trying to open the door. A moan rumbled through Santana's body when Brittany impatiently pushed her against the door pressing their hips together, shifting against the obvious arousal. Brittany pulled back slightly before she pressed a wet, hot, open mouthed kiss to Santana's neck. "Fuck, you are so beautiful. Especially when you're desperate." Brittany wrinkled her nose in amusement before pulling the keys from between Santana's relaxed fingers and effortlessly unlocked and opened the door, pulling Santana behind her.

Brittany pulled off Santana's shirt before unbuttoning her own, and pressing their bodies flush together once more. Suddenly all the desperation was removed, and the kisses relaxed into languid, liquid and soft sharing of emotions. Santana's hands rested comfortably at Brittany's waist, whilst Brittany's trailed, feather light, up and down Santana's back, occasionally fingers pressing lightly before moving on.

Neither knew how long they stood there, tongues becoming reacquainted and love slipping between their lips like smoke. Brittany slid her fingers beneath Santana's bra, moving around to cup them gently. Santana gasped into Brittany's mouth and scrambled to undo the clasp of first her own and then Brittany's bras letting them fall to floor like petals from a growing flower. Their skin was heated and tingling, soft and hard and smooth and gooseflesh all at once.

Brittany pulled at the flesh of Santana's breasts before dragging her nails down Santana's abs and pulling at the button and zipper of her jeans. "San, baby, please. I want you so bad." Santana pulled at Brittany's hips, walking them towards the bed as they both tugged and unbutton and pulled at their trousers. When the backs of Santana's knees hit the bed, only her boxers remained, which Brittany swiftly pulled down before pushing her down onto the bed and fitting her knees close to Santana's hips squeezing gently.

"Condom?" Brittany had been on the pill since they were sixteen, but both had a policy of better safe than sorry, and so sex without a condom was rare, always on Brittany's terms, and always so much more intense for them both. Santana's voice was rasping and much lower than normal, causing a shiver to run through Brittany's body. She shook her head before trailing her fingers along Santana's eyebrows, down to her cheekbones, tracing her lips and finally slowly pushing her index finger between them.

"No, it's okay." Brittany gently lifted Santana's chin pressing their lips together chastely before she squeezed Santana's hips once more with her knees. "Ready?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Santana laughed breathily, moving her hands along Brittany's strong, muscled thighs and across the flat of her stomach to rest along her rib cage.

"Not when I'm in charge." Brittany smirked, pressing against Santana's breasts once again before lowering her hips. Santana's mouth opened gently at the feeling of hot, wet, velvet that encased her, and Brittany's head dropped onto her shoulder as their hips settled together.

At the first shift of Brittany's hips, Santana pulled their faces together, capturing Brittany's lips roughly, wetly, desperately. "I love you, I love you so much."

The feeling of Santana inside her and Santana's hot pants into her mouth caused Brittany to whine before panting back. "I love you too. I always have."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I know that not a lot happened, but this was supposed to be a lot longer with more happening, but I have my first finial exam in 4 days, and if I didn't update this now, I wouldn't be updating for another good two weeks, so I thought this was better than nothing!

Also, are the flashbacks good or would you rather I didn't include them? Let me know :D

As ever, reviews would be much much much appreciated :D


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I meant to say this last time, but THANK YOU to everyone, this story has had the highest response of any of my stories, so, thanks :D

This is, pretty much, a chapter of fluff. I'm in the throes of exam stress, and so fluff is all I can muster at the moment, but I hope it's enjoyable fluff :D Also, I've only had the chance to read through this once, so there may be a few more mistakes than normal, feel free to point them out haha

As ever, any mistakes are completely my own, Glee and the characters aren't. Reviews would be much, much appreciated. Please? ^.^

* * *

**Berkeley, California: October 2012:**

Santana woke to the smooth heat of the sun along her arm and soft kisses being brushed along her jaw and cheeks. As her eyes flickered open she became aware of the warm, slightly sticky body pressed alongside hers, hips occasionally pressing harder against her thigh and she did nothing to stop a tired moan pushing into the heavy, moist air. She heard a light giggle and painfully hot, wet flesh move across her leg until Brittany completely straddled her, still swirling her hips every now and then.

"Good morning. I thought you were never going to wake up. Although," Brittany moved her hand down to grip between Santana's thighs. "Some of you woke up much earlier." Santana's mouth popped open and her cheeks heated and darkened at Brittany's unabashed stare. Brittany's eyes darkened and deepened, sparkling gently in the early morning light as her hand slowly shifted up and down, her touch feather light; just enough to begin to frustrate Santana. "I am so, so, so glad you have a single room." Brittany whispered before her hand tightened and she pressed their bodies flush.

If Santana could have formed a coherent thought at that moment, she would have wholeheartedly agreed.

* * *

Brittany stretched her body indulgently, knees and shoulders cracking rewardingly, before she rolled to her side and realised that she was alone, and where Santana had been, was cold. She scrunched her nose in confusion as she looked around the room finding it completely void of Santana. She sat up, causing the thin sheet to pool around her waist and her skin automatically turned to goose flesh. Pointlessly turning her head once again (she knew Santana wasn't just going to pop out from under the bed or the desk or materialise from thin air) she suddenly felt self conscious at her exposed skin and tugged and shrugged the sheet up and around her shoulders, before wriggling from the bed and grabbing at her clothes still strewn across the floor from last night.

She stood, fully clothed, and pirouetted on the balls of her feet, completely at a loss as to what to do. She slumped down into Santana's desk chair, pulling her knees towards her and resting her chin upon them, suddenly feeling irrationally hurt and the itchy prickle of tears in her eyes. She hugged her legs closer towards her torso and moved her gaze to the window.

She didn't know why she was so upset, it's not like Santana would have left her, this was _Santana's _dorm room after all; but she couldn't stop the doubt from tugging at her heart and a forlorn, solitary ache in her gut.

* * *

**Lima: March 2009:**

Santana twisted her head to look at the clock that Brittany always had on her bedside table. The small green luminous numbers flashed 02:37am and the sheen of sweat upon her skin was clammy, uncomfortable, suffocating.

It had only been three minutes since she last looked, and only another two before that and only another five before that and only…Since she woke up at 1am in the arms of the person she had just lost her virginity to.

She turned her head away, looking down at the blond wave of hair (the only visible part of Brittany to her without moving) and was suddenly hit with a rolling flood of nausea and self loathing. She took several deep breaths staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the softening in her heart at the sight of the glow in the dark stars a ten year old Brittany had pushed up onto her toes to press firmly to the smooth, white ceiling, with Santana's hands at her back and waist to stop her toppling off the bed.

She turned her head once again to the clock, taunting her reading 02:41am. The smell of sex and sweat and the musty heaviness in the air made her stomach twist once again and her breath to come out raggedly in loud pants.

"Shit! What did I _do_?" Her voice was hoarse in jarring in the otherwise silent room.

She couldn't stay here.

She couldn't stay in this bed where a circle of the sheet was stuck to her knee, obscenely by her own release, and where Brittany was curled into her side, hair spilling across the pillow to tickle at Santana's cheek.

"Fuck! This was such a mistake."

Santana tried to gently wiggle her arm from underneath Brittany's neck without waking her, but it was taking too long, and she suddenly felt trapped by Brittany's weight and the sheet wound around their legs. She tugged sharply and her arm slithered out, causing Brittany's body to tilt slightly; Santana held her breath praying that she wouldn't wake. When Brittany hummed in contentment and only pressed her face further into her pillow, Santana released her breath, turning and grabbing at her clothes.

She hadn't even pulled on her jeans before she could feel the first of the tears stinging at her eyes.

"I'm not a dyke. I _can't_ be." She was muttering to herself under her breath, voice thick, tugging at the zips and buttons more forcefully than necessary, her fingers fumbling uselessly.

By the time she had zipped up her jacket, it was taking all of her strength not to start sobbing (and if she was honest, she was using all her strength not to climb back into the bed and wrap Brittany tightly back around her) and she clumsily tripped down the stairs, angrily dragging at the corners of her eyes.

She couldn't believe what she had just done.

She wasn't gay.

She wasn't.

Just because she had a penis didn't mean she was gay.

She didn't need to be any more of a freak than she already was.

That's why her parents had changed her schools when she became Santana; no one would understand how Santiago had become Santana, was so much happier as Santana.

(Except Brittany, a small voice whispered)

She couldn't be gay.

She couldn't disappoint her parents, or her Abuela (possibly the most important adult in her life) like that; she knew this was wrong. She spent hours throughout her life reading the small, white leather bound Bible her Abuela had gotten her for her First Holy Communion, and listening to her priest and her family discuss God and the way He helps people to live and make choices in their lives.

It had never being directly discussed, but it didn't change that Santana knew that with another woman, even if one of them had male sexual organs, was not one of those options.

She hadn't even made it to the end of the street before she felt the acid and bile bubble up her throat and burst onto the pavement. She fell to her knees and retched repeatedly before she managed to get her breathing back under control and push up onto her feet.

Her sobs bubbled into the otherwise silent night as she stumbled back along the streets; her feet felt heavy like lead or gold, her legs non responsive whilst flashes of the evening, indelibly burnt upon her memory, followed her home.

Her hands were shaking so badly by the time she reached her front door that it took her several attempts to push the key into the lock and twist it successfully until the tumblers clicked and the door swung open. She had managed to stop the sobs, but by the time she had pushed her bedroom door behind her, her knees buckled, her body sliding down the door where she collapsed onto the floor into a ball and let them take over her body.

* * *

Brittany shifted in her sleep, her subconscious aware of movement other than her own in the bed. As the movement increased her brain started waking up, and she registered Santana's whispered, rasping voice.

Feeling Santana's warm arm moving from beneath her body, she twisted, but kept her eyes closed in an attempt at not becoming fully awake. A heavy breath hit her face and she sensed Santana moving away. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought and her eyes automatically flickered open landing on the clock.

02:49am

She heard the sounds of Santana scrambling on the floor and clothes being pulled against skin before Santana's voice once again filled the room. "I'm not a dyke. I can't be." Brittany could hear the tears that Santana was trying to stop from falling, and the hate that threaded through such a simple sentence made her heart ache and her stomach twist and her muscles tense painfully. She felt her bottom lip begin to tremble, and quickly sucked it into her mouth to stop any sounds escaping.

It wasn't until she heard her bedroom door and then the front door click closed that she let her lip go and loud sobs reverberated around the room as Brittany curled up in her bed, desperately hugging the pillow Santana had being using.

* * *

For a week Brittany stoutly ignored Santana at school, getting there early to grab all of her books and binders from her locker and then staying later to avoid her when she returned the ones she wouldn't need. Every time she caught a glimpse of Santana in the hallway or the library or the cafeteria or her classes, her heart would clench and ripples of hurt would march down her spine, spreading throughout her body. It wasn't until Puck's weekly party that Friday that she was in the same room as Santana without the protection of tables and chairs and teachers.

Santana smiled hesitantly across the room at her, she had no idea why Brittany had been avoiding her; she had sent a text explaining that she had to get home before her parents woke up, oblivious to the fact that Brittany had heard everything she had said. When Brittany didn't turn her head away instantly, Santana took a small step towards her and reached out to take Brittany's hand.

Brittany recoiled, tucking her hands under her arm pits and emphatically shook her head no, glaring at Santana. Santana frowned, her arm hanging uselessly between them, unsure what to do.

"Britt, what," Brittany took another step back, hugging herself tighter and Santana's frown deepened. "Brittany! What the fuck? Why are you ignoring me and treating me like I'm Treasure Trail?" Santana tried to stop others from noticing them having what anyone could see was closer to a lovers spat than an argument between best friends, and her words came out as a low, harsh hiss. "I mean, did I do something?"

Brittany scoffed turning her body away from Santana and pulling at the wisps of hair that were escaping her braid in frustration. "You _left_ me Santana." Santana frowned, and her mouth opened a little in confusion. "You _fucked _me, and then you _left_!" Santana's eyes widened, grabbing onto Brittany's wrist before she could stop it and pulling them into one of the other rooms away from the crowd. Brittany yanked her arm away and pushed forcefully at Santana's chest. "You, you…you were my first, and you just leave like I'm some…some slut who opens her legs for anyone! And then! And then you send me a shitty lying bullshit text and act like nothing happened." Santana felt her cheeks burn and her palms begin to sweat.

"I told you, I had to get back before my par-"

"No!" Brittany yelled, pushing at Santana once again. "No! I heard you. I heard you Santana. Saying it was a mistake and that we shouldn't have done it and that you can't be a dyke. I _heard _you." Angry tears were pooling in Brittany's eyes and falling down her checks and she pulled roughly at them.

"I…I'm sorry B. I didn't…I didn't mean to make you feel like that." Santana took a small step closer, her face scrunched in hurt and confusion and the self disgust that had been brewing steadily since their first kiss suddenly boiling over, becoming too much. "I'm so sorry, I just…I'm not gay, and that night, we shouldn't have done it, that…it's not-" Suddenly Santana's cheek was burning, stinging, and Brittany's mouth sprung open in shock, eyes wide.

Brittany had slapped her.

Brittany had _slapped _her.

Santana lifted her hand, protectively to her cheek, wet from tears and hot from the impact. Brittany's mouth formed, as if speaking, but no words made it out into the uncomfortably silent room. "I _love _you Santana." The words were broken and sharp in the room.

"As friends, Brittany." Brittany shook her head in wide over exaggerated strokes, but she allowed Santana to step closer and wind her fingers around Brittany's wrist. "As _friends _Britt, we can't…" Brittany's bottom lip and her chin trembled, and an urge to kiss her, make her stop looking like a kicked puppy spread through Santana. She lifted slightly onto her toes, her hands tightening, before her brain realised what she was doing and pulled away, putting a small gap between them. "Friends."

Brittany looked at her, blue eyes hard and disappointed, causing Santana to flinch back in fear and she tugged her wrists free. "Friends?" Santana didn't know if she was meant to answer or not, so she remained silent, sure that Brittany had more to say. Brittany huffed before pushing past Santana towards the main room again. "If you say so Santana."

* * *

Santana spent the rest of the evening slumped on the couch, pushing at Puck's wondering hands away from her chest and glaring at Brittany as she danced with as many guys as possible. The dancing got sloppier and the guys got more handsy as the beer kegs started to diminish, until Mike Chang had his arms wrapped around Brittany's waist and his tongue down her throat.

Or maybe Brittany's tongue was down _his _throat.

Sudden white hot rage and jealously spiked through Santana and she shoved Puck (much harder than she meant causing him to fall off the arm he was balanced on in order to get the best look down Santana's dress) storming through the dancing bodies until she reached the blonde.

"Britt! Brittany." Brittany pulled her mouth away from Mike's, but didn't pull their bodies apart or slow their hips from shifting with the beat, although Mike's eyes widened a little in fear even through the beer haze. Brittany's eyes were hazy, slightly unfocused, but Santana could still make out the strong disappointment.

"What?" Her voice was sharp, stinging Santana more than the slap had.

"What are you going Brittany? I thought you said you didn't _want _a boyfriend." Santana had no idea why she was so angry, or so jealous, but she was going to back down now.

"Mike's not my boyfriend. He's just a boy I'm kissing, who knows maybe doing more with later." Brittany paled slightly, sleeping with Mike, or anything more than kissing, was the last thing she wanted to do, but she wasn't going to let Santana keep treating her like this. "_You _left _me_ remember?" Santana looked hurt, but still didn't move, and the smell of her perfume and her soap was making Brittany's head spin much faster than the beer and she wanted her to either leave or hug her and never let go. "I don't need any more friends." She spat, and Santana finally turned to leave. She made it to the front door before the tears start to drip down her face again.

* * *

**Berkley: October 2012:**

It wasn't the last time Santana left Brittany in her bed alone, hating herself and feeling sick and wrong every time.

It wasn't the last time that Brittany spent the night crying into the pillow Santana had been using and feeling so angry at Santana that she didn't know what to do.

But Brittany thought Santana was long over that, she thought Santana realised that yes she was gay, like really gay, and that there was nothing wrong with that.

So why had she once again woken up alone in a cold bed?

Brittany had just shuffled her feet back onto the floor, decided that she was going to pack up her bag and get a taxi to the station when she heard loud footsteps, deep pants and the unmistakable thump of a bass line. The door swung open and Santana, un running shorts, sports bra and a hoodie bounced into the room, head nodding along with the beat from her iPod.

Brittany yelled in pleasure, before launching herself towards Santana, pulling the smaller woman flush against her body and clinging to her tightly around her waist. She was mumbling into Santana's neck, the movement of her lips causing tingles to spread across Santana, but her proximity and low volume meant Santana couldn't understand what she was saying. Santana gently pushed her palms against Brittany's shoulders, moving to cup her chin her thumb brushing at the tears, kissing those she couldn't reach. "Sweetbee? Why are you crying?" Santana's voice was soft, soothing and she pressed her lips gently against Brittany's cheeks once more.

"I thought you were…I thought…I woke up and you were gone!"

Santana cringed, mentally slapping herself at not leaving a note so Brittany would know she had gone for a run. She pulled Brittany close, placing a hand at the back of her head, rubbing circles onto her back with the other. "Oh Britt, I'm so sorry! I didn't think to leave you a note. I'm so sorry." She kissed along Brittany's hairline, her fingers massaging at her scalp, until Brittany's tears stopped.

"No, I'm sorry I didn't trust you San. You haven't done that to me in like two years. I just…I woke up and the bed was cold. And I panicked. I'm sorry." Santana smiled a little before brushing their noses together and trailing the tip of her tongue along the edge of Brittany's bottom lip. The rest of Brittany's apology caught in her throat, turning into a quiet moan.

"How about," Santana's breath was hot, tickling at Brittany's lips and she leant forward, trying to capture Santana's lips again. "Nuh uh," Santana pulled back a little, their noses still touching. "How about, we go for a late breakfast, then come back for some more," Santana gently nipped at Brittany's lower lip. "Physical activities?" Brittany whined, the sound reverberating in her throat before she nodded, eyes flickering to where she knew Santana's lips were. "Awesome. Let me just have a shower then, I'll be ready in twenty minutes tops."

Brittany firmly gripped Santana's chin before she turned her head to the side and licked slowly with the flat of her tongue up her neck. "But you taste, and smell, awesome S." Brittany's voice was lower and slightly raspier than usual and Santana felt the breath in her throat catch and a slight pressure building in her gut and between her legs.

"But I'm hungry B. We had like, four rounds of sex and I've just gone for a run." She frowned, trying to pout, but Brittany just flicked at the protruding bottom lip.

"Well, the sex was brilliant and the run was your idea, so stop your bellyachin'" Just then Santana's stomach growled loudly, and both women burst into giggles. "Fine! Fine! We can go eat. Go in the shower." When Santana didn't move, still giggling, Brittany twisted her body towards the door and slapped her arse. "Go!"

* * *

Two hours, three showers and another round of sex later, they walked out fingers lightly tucked together, headed to Santana's favourite café (where the coffee was cheap but tasted amazing, the food was filling, if simple, and the wait staff were cute, coming in all different shapes and sizes and colours) that she had found, completely by accident on one her more adventurous runs.

A café, she later found out when excitedly explaining its location to Alice, everybody else on campus knew about after the first week. (They had laughed at her shocked and confused pout for what felt like hours when she finished describing it).

The exterior was lavish, almost Georgian with a narrow, but tall, entrance way in sculpted smooth white, surrounded by uneven bright red bricks, like fresh raspberries clustered around crisp, sweet crème fresh. The interior couldn't be more different. The multiple, mismatched frames holding photographs of the surrounding area, paintings of far away places (some Santana wasn't even sure were real places) and the seemingly pre-requisite still lives and enlarged coffee cups, were haphazardly strewn along the walls. The walls themselves were once a rich, earthy, dark orange (it always reminded Santana of the clay soils seen in adverts for Australian outback holidays or safari packages in Africa) that was now faded and covered in random swatches of different colours that Henry and Olivia had contemplated repainting with. The mixture of square and circular tables were obviously old, but clean, never with the sticky remnants of past spilt coffee or smeared detergents, and Santana loved the way she had to zig zag to reach anywhere and that the layout changed every time she was there.

They turned into the street the café was on, and Santana suddenly felt nervous. What if Brittany didn't like it? What if she thought the paint swatches (with the name of the colour scribbled hastily in pencil underneath) were scrappy, not quaint? What if she thought the arrangement of the tables was cluttered, claustrophobic? Or that the food was too plain? The art wasn't thematic enough or uncultured? She subconsciously slowed the closer she got to the entrance, hers and Brittany's arms stretched between them until their fingers slipped apart and Brittany turned towards her in confusion.

"What's wrong Dollface?" Brittany walked back, tilting her head and holding Santana's hips occasionally pressing her thumbs against the exposed bones.

"I just…I really…oh my God this is ridiculous." Santana shook her head quickly and ran her fingers through her hair nervously. "I really like this café, and I don't want you to think its...cheap and tacky or something." Brittany smiled, biting her lip as she leant forwards and rubbed their noses together in an Eskimo kiss.

"You're fucking adorable San. You know I'm not a big judgemental…person. And if you love it, I'm sure I will too. But," Santana frowned slightly. "It doesn't matter if we don't feel the same way about everything, so long as we're not rude about the things that we don't like. Okay?" Santana smiled softly and nodded before kissing Brittany chastely and tangling their fingers together again dragging her towards the café.

Santana led her to her favourite table (today it was even close to her favourite location, near the back and allowed people watching) as Brittany's neck stretched and twisted to look at all of the pictures and trying to read all the colour names (impossible even up close most of the time).

Santana pushed gently at her shoulders to get her to sit down, before kissing her on the forehead and making her way over to the counter to order their favourites. Brittany _loved _this place. It was cluttered and quirky and completely different to any other café or coffee shop she had been in before. And it smelt like real flowers and coffee and bread. She noticed Santana was taking longer than expected to order their drinks, and had to stifle her giggle at the barista desperately flirting with a flustered awkward Santana, who apparently still wasn't used to girls flirting with her or how to tell them politely to get lost. She would leave it another couple of minutes before she saved her.

Or until the girl touched her one more time.

Which she did.

Brittany narrowed her eyes before sauntering over and leaning her chin on Santana's shoulder. She could feel Santana instantly relax into her touch and reach a hand back to grip Brittany's own. The barista looked awkwardly between the two of them, occasionally glancing at the small notepad between her fingers. "This, um, this is my girlfriend I was talking about." Brittany mentally high fived that she had been brought up, and smiled sweetly at the girl as her fingers wiggled in a curt greeting.

"Oh, your girlfriend. Right. I'll make your drinks and bring them right over."

"Thanks." Brittany said in her best sweet, innocent Cheerio voice before tugging gently at Santana's waist back towards their table. "She was flirting with you."

Santana's cheeks flooded with heat and her breath caught in her throat. "I know B, I'm so sorry, I didn't know how to get away with being rude, I kept mentioning you, but it didn't seem to make a difference. I didn't know what to say. It was always easy with the high school guys. And being a bitch was easy, I was always so angry with myself and with the world…but I'm not like that here, and I had no idea what to say to her."

"Oh Sanny, it's okay! I don't mind if people flirt, even if you flirt a little back, so long as I still have your heart. And obviously you don't kiss or sleep with any of them." Brittany smiled softly as she reached across and plucked at Santana's pinkie.

"Really? You didn't mind that she was flirting with me?"

"No! You're hot. And, like, really gay. Like I said, so long as I still have your heart." Brittany scrunched her nose, and seeing the barista making her way over to them, gripped Santana's hand a little firmer. She set the drinks down, unable to meet either of their eyes before quickly making her way back to the safety of the counter, the muffled giggles of Santana and Brittany trickling into the air.

* * *

The weekend passed in a blur of (passionate, rough, slow, fast, loud, intimate, quiet, frantic, controlled) sex, discussions about nothing and everything and visits to get food only when desperately required. It seemed altogether too soon when Brittany twisted in Santana's arms and reached for her watch, sighing before wriggling from the bed. Santana, whose eyes were still closed, breathing deeply and slowly, whined in protest before clumsily twitching her arms in a delayed attempt to prevent Brittany from leaving. Brittany giggled softly as she pulled on her clothes and stuffed the few things that had actually made it out of her bag, back in. She sat and watched Santana sleep for a few minutes more, before looking once again at her watch.

"San?" She pressed a soft kiss to Santana's forehead, brushing her fingers to what was sure to be some epic sex hair. "Santana? Sweety? My train leaves in half an hour." Santana's face crumpled into a frown before one eye opened, dark brown swimming into view.

"Do you really have to go?"

Brittany bit her lip, scratching gently at Santana's scalp. "Yeah Santana, I do. Unless you want me to become a bum and for you to be my sugar mama. 'Cos I feel I should warn you, if that happens, you better be a good and rich one to keep me into the style of life to which I've become accustomed, otherwise I shall have to find a better offer." Brittany quirked her eye brow, trying to keep a straight face at Santana's over exaggerated pout. A loud, forceful laugh tripped from Brittany's lips and she reached forward to nip gently at the extended bottom lip. "Come on, time for me to head back San." Santana sighed before pulling herself from the bed, kicking at the thin sheet they had thrown over themselves to keep the chill away.

"Okay, I'm coming."

* * *

They stood on the platform, bodies flush together, fingers tickling at any exposed flesh, Santana's eyes flickering over Brittany's face (they never could keep still, even when she was a baby, always curious and conscious about what was going on around her) whilst Brittany's gaze was steady and calm.

"I had a really beautiful weekend Britt." Santana's voice was low and quiet, not wanting to pop the bubble around them.

Brittany smiled before rocking on her heels gently. "And, by beautiful, you mean sex filled."

Santana opened her mouth in shock insult and quickly averted her gaze. "No! Well, I mean, it _was _sex filled, which was most defiantly spectacular, but we spent Saturday afternoon away from our bed. Plus, anything that involves you being naked is automatically beautiful."

Brittany snorted before kissing the tip of Santana's nose. "Dork." Santana shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly before she gripped at Brittany's fingers tightly with her own and trailing one finger along Brittany's exposed collarbone.

"Maybe, but I'm _your _dork." The sudden loud arrival of the train made them both jump, then laugh at their own skittishness. Santana felt a sudden wave of loss and an ache in her heart; she quickly grasped at Brittany's cheeks, crashing their lips together in a desperate, sloppy kiss. "I love you _so much_ Brittany." Brittany smiled, before gently repositioning their mouths in a softer more practised kiss.

"I love you too San." She brushed their noses gently before chastely kissing her once more and pulled away. "Now, I have to get on this train, but that doesn't mean I want to leave you, or love you any less dork." Santana smiled, wiping the few escaped tears on her shoulder. "I will see you in two weeks time, okay? Two little, short weeks. And we will text and call and sext." Brittany wiggled her eyebrows suggestively making Santana laugh, thickly, wetly.

Santana squeezed Brittany's fingers one more time before they pulled apart and Brittany boarded the train. "Two weeks." Santana called behind her, causing Brittany to twirl on the balls of her feet to nod emphatically, trying to keep her owns tears at bay. It was silly, they would see each other soon, and one of them would crumble and call the other before Brittany had even got off the train, but the weekend had been so intense and so isolated that it physically hurt to be separated. As Brittany sat in her seat, she leant her forehead against the window and waved at Santana (whose arms were wrapped around her waist tightly and whose left foot was nervously twisting and pressing against the right, face gently scrunched in an attempt to stop anymore tears from falling) not even blinking until Santana was too small to be seen an her gaze was so unfocused the world was just a swirl of colours.

* * *

A/N: So, the café is completely fictional, I spent about two hours trying to find cafés or coffee shops that were near by the university but couldn't find anything that I liked enough to describe or from a website reliable enough for me to be sure that it was actually where they said it was; so if you live in the area and there is nothing like that, I'm sorry!

Thanks for reading! ^.^

Review please? *blatant begging*


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry this has taken, like a month, but I had my finial A Level exam yesterday (yay!) and so now I'm free to write. Hopefully the nice length of this will make up for the wait?

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favourite and read ^.^ Also, special thanks to **gleeeeeek89** for her PMs of support and also **Ryoko05** I hope this is something like what you wanted.

Just in case this gets deleted (thanks for the warning **Total Justice** and I hope this is up to standard!), I'm going to put my tumblr link thingy on my profile, and will then try and figure out how to _use _my tumblr haha.

Reviews as ever, would be really appreciated.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: November 2012:**

Brittany had been gone for three days, and all Santana had done was go to classes, work in the library and sleep. She was even refusing to answer her phone or reply to texts, the only email she bothered to open was from her Gender Studies lecturer about room changes.

And Alice was not letting her get away with it anymore.

She marched up to Santana's door (where she noticed a sign on the cork board reading 'If you are neither blonde, beautiful, a dancer or my girlfriend, kindly fuck off' in Santana's neat print, making her eyes roll in exasperation) and balled up her fists. Alice started relatively softly, with just one hand, hitting at the door methodically, listening for any signs of Santana moving on the other side of the door in between.

"Come on Mopez. Open the door." Alice started to increase the force behind the hits then shortening the gaps between them. She finally heard an aggravated and surprisingly high pitched exclamation, smirking as the door was wrenched opened by Santana wearing only a sports bra and loose pair of shorts. Alice obnoxiously, slowly, pulled her eyes from Santana's calves, resting on her chest before meeting her eyes in a way she knew would annoy Santana immensely. "Nice." She wiggled her eyebrows (in a way the Santana couldn't help but think of Puck) and widened her smirk.

"Fuck off Alice."

The blonde held her hands up in mock defence. "Hey, I'm not much of a dancer, but I'm blonde and not to toot my own horn, but I have been told I'm beautiful before, and well, I can work on the girlfriend portion of the agreement." Santana frowned slightly, and Alice widened her eyes tapping the note on the cork board.

Santana ran her fingers through her hair before setting them back on her hips. "Right. Whatever. Why are you here Alice?"

"God it's like talking to an idiot. Because, my dear fiery, grumpy, lesbian friend, I am sick and tired of this mopey depressed thing you got going on right now. It's not hot and it's not fun. Now, go and take a shower and put on something that can't be worn for exercise and we are going to get something to eat." Santana sighed, closing her eyes in frustration and opened her mouth to argue when she felt Alice's warm hand press against her lips. "No. I'm not taking some bullshit excuse as to why you can't come eat, which will basically boil down to you missing your squeeze.

"Now, go shower, or I will personally strip you and drag you into the shower." Santana's eyes widened, her hands instinctively falling to her crotch protectively, causing Alice's eyes to follow. "Hey, nothing I ain't seen before, and seeing as how you were a freaking _cheerleader_," (Santana had inadvertently let slip that she had been a cheerleader for most of her school career and after everyone had stopped laughing enough to catch their breath, Alice and the rest had never missed an opportunity to taunt her about it) "You should be used to getting changed in front of others. So," Alice reached towards the waistband of the shorts, not noticing Santana's arms tense of the fearful way her heartbeat sped up. "You gonna get in the shower yourself, or am I going to have to help?" Alice moved her hand from Santana's mouth and pulled at the shorts, letting the elastic snap back into place.

Santana felt calmer and safer once Alice had moved her hand from her mouth and could move back. Swallowing thickly, Santana straightened her shoulders, attitude securely back in place. "Alright, alright. I'm going. Jeez, if I knew you were this desperate to spend time with me I would have dressed up." Alice rolled her eyes, refusing to inadvertently incriminate herself, instead falling onto the desk chair and pushing at Santana with her foot.

* * *

An hour later, Alice and Santana walked into one of the many green, shaded areas, where a group of five people were sprawled against and underneath one of the many trees that were dotted around the campus.

"Hey everyone, look who I managed to extract from the Batcave of pathetic and pining." Santana rolled her eyes and huffed good naturedly. "Get it," Alice wiggled her eyebrows and bumped her elbow against Santana. "Batcave. Cos you read Batwoman, like, religiously. Get it?"

Santana couldn't help the small laugh, before she pushed gently at Alice and flopped onto the grass. "Yeah, I get it."

"Alice, I think that building over on the other side of campus got it. Subtle comedic genius you are not." George drawled. Santana had instantly liked George, not only did she think it was hilarious that she was from Georgia and her parents had thought it was a smart and clever idea to name their kid George, but she was a male to female pre-op transsexual. Although Santana hadn't told anybody about her own anatomy, the first time she met George, they had spent hours discussing gender and gender identification and society, instantly becoming friends. George was also the only one of her friends that knew she had had breast augmentation, even if she didn't know the real reason behind it.

* * *

**Dayton, Ohio, March 2010:**

Santana was sat in the geneticist's office, an office she had been visiting ever since she could remember (which she knew was actually only a year or so after she became Santana, but hey, she always was prone to hyperbole) tuning out the words of the adults to a low buzz, when she suddenly noticed that they had stopped talking and were all looking at her expectantly. She widened her eyes in question and looked at them, waiting for someone to repeat the question she had so obviously missed.

"What?" She huffed, causing Sofia to sigh in frustration, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes in a way that would have made Santana proud if she had seen it, whilst Carlos smiled sadly looking towards the doctor helplessly.

Doctor Lucy Richards smiled at Carlos before turning back to Santana and repeating her question. "Your mother says that the size and shape differences of your breasts have gotten worse as you've gone through puberty, not better liked we had hoped. Does it bother you at all?" Santana felt her face flood with heat and her mouth popped open in embarrassment and shock, desperately avoiding her father's gaze.

Carlos cleared his throat, and shifted uncomfortably in the expensive looking leather chair, before taking his wife's hand. "Perhaps Santana should, um, perhaps I should wait outside. It might be more comfortable for everyone?" He phrased it as a question, but it sounded more like a plea.

Santana was still staring at the ground; over the years she had become used to invasive and embarrassing personal questions coming up in the presence of her parents. But as she had become older, her parents, especially Carlos, rarely came into Lucy's office with her and Santana relished the privacy. Santana could only assume that Sofia had predicted her unwillingness to talk about the lack of improvement, and had come in to force the issue.

"Would you prefer that Santana? Would you talk to me about this without your parents?" Lucy asked, softly, but not patronisingly. Santana had always liked Lucy (it had taken years for Santana to feel comfortable enough to agree to call her Lucy and not Doctor Richards or even Doctor Lucy) much better than the first doctor a brash and sometimes cruel man.

"I think I should stay. She won't talk about it, and it's important." Sofia's voice was firm, she was tired of seeing Santana so obviously self-conscious about her appearance whilst simultaneously unwilling to talk and do anything about the problem. Santana automatically flinched at her mother's words, pulling at her fingers and clenching her shoulders to cover her torso and appear smaller, unnoticeable.

"Well, how about, I talk to Santana for a little while, just her and I, and if we don't get anywhere I will come out and get you Sofia and we can try and all talk. Does that sound okay to everyone?" Lucy's voice was calm but persuasive, and Carlos squeezed at Sofia's hand, an unspoken plea to agree. Sofia pursed her lips before she sighed and nodded once.

As soon as the door clicked behind her parents, Santana felt her body relax, the room falling into a not uncomfortable silence. Lucy was content to wait, sure that Santana would explain when she was ready, choosing instead to read through the new journal which was sitting open on her desk. She had learnt from past experiences that waiting for Santana to explain was much more productive and usually happened quicker if Lucy was doing anything other than looking like she was waiting for Santana to talk.

Santana shifted after several minutes and sighed in resignation. "My left boob, it's," Santana kicked at the desk twice before standing and pacing in frustration around the office, eyes flitting, taking in the tastefully dark wood panelling smooth and shinning with the occasional knot; the one wall of educational and medical textbooks mostly in luxuriant, pitted, strong smelling leather; the dark blue suede couch simultaneously large enough to not be claustrophobic and small enough to not be intimidating. She ran her fingers nervously through her hair before turning her back on Lucy and staring at the only painting in the room (this month showing rolling white and blue and green waves). "It's been growing slower than my right, which you know," Lucy nodded her head gently even though Santana couldn't see her and then hummed softly to let her know that she was still listening. "Yeah, well, it stopped growing about," She huffed in thought, even though Lucy was sure Santana knew exactly when her left breast had stopped growing. "I dunno, about four and a half months ago. Mum bought me some bras that you can fill with those different sized fillet things; you know the ones that women get to make their tits look bigger, so that I could pad my left side out. And also some special sports bras for the same thing and this, mould thing to attach to my skin and make it look like my boob so no-one on Cheerio's knows." Santana turned around to face Lucy, arms protectively pulled around herself, gaze averted.

Lucy stood and moved from behind her desk towards Santana. "May I see? Would that be okay?" no matter how long Lucy had treated Santana, she always asked, always respectful. Santana looked upwards before shrugging and pulling her shirt over her head.

"Sure, why not. Everyone else does." Lucy frowned slightly, unsure how to react, before Santana sighed, annoyed at her slip. "Bra on or off?"

"Off, please." Santana took a deep breath (no matter how many times she had been seen in various stages of nudity by any number of doctors she still never got over the feeling of exposure and vulnerability each time) before twisting at the clasp behind her back and letting it fall on top of her jacket and shirt already pooled on the chair like shed skin. Lucy smiled gently before moving forwards, pressing at the alcohol gel pump and spreading it across her hands and wrists. She moved her hand over the muscles from Santana's right shoulder and down her back before moving back up and repeating the motions down from her collarbone on the front. "Have you noticed anything other changes?"

Lucy pressed at the beginning of the swell, satisfied with the pliability of the tissue, expertly and professionally checking for lumps and fibrous tissues, before removing her hands and looking back into Santana's eyes.

Santana fiddled with the waistband of her constrictive underwear, more than visible above her jeans. "Yeah, um, I noticed," (Wrong, Brittany noticed, even through the alcohol) "that my left boob, it, I was under the shower," (Wrong, her nipple was covered by Brittany's mouth, normally so welcome and warm and wet especially when their veins were filled and humming with spirits) "and I noticed that I couldn't feel the heat of the water, just like, the pressure of it." (Wrong, Brittany had let her nipple go with a pop, confused as to why Santana hadn't reacted normally, the lust and alcoholic haze lifting when she realised something was wrong. When Santana explained, she had spent almost twenty minutes with different textures and temperatures and dry and wet to find out what Santana could feel and what she couldn't).

Lucy nodded before repeating her motions over the left side of Santana's back. The muscle felt weaker than on her right and Lucy moved to the front. The breast was much smaller, the outer swell recognisable although interrupted by two small fibrous lumps, whilst the inner swell was flattened, almost unrecognisable, moulding into what would have been cleavage if both breasts were fully formed, and it had caused the areola to spread wider than her right, the nipple off centre, although properly formed. The tissue underneath Lucy's fingers was tough and she could feel he skin was also rougher, like it had been under the sun for too long. "Okay, is it alright if I do a sensitivity test?" Santana nodded shortly, covering herself with crossed arms as soon as Lucy returned to her desk. After another ten minutes of meticulous prodding and marking on a chart, Lucy turned and handed Santana her bra and sat back down behind her desk.

Lucy waited until Santana was fully dressed before she looked up and spoke. "There is a significant difference between the quality of the tissues, and the way your left breast has developed, although not medically a problem, given all your monthly test results from you GP are normal, it is most definitely an aesthetic problem." Santana shrugged and nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Is there, a particular reason, maybe a significant other," (looking back on it, Santana was sure that Lucy knew that Brittany was more than a friend and that Puck was less than a boyfriend) "that has caused this to be more of a problem recently?" Santana felt the heat return to her cheeks and her neck feel blotchy as she avoided Lucy's gaze. (Just Brittany. Even if she always said Santana was sexy, Santana never believed it, and recently she had wanted more and more to be perfect for Brittany. Even if she wouldn't admit to why.) "You don't have to tell me, that's not what I'm here for. But if it is a real problem, and at your age and your involvement in sports, I can understand how it would be, we can discuss with your parents about reconstructive surgery." Santana's eyes snapped upwards, a small flicker of hope passing across her features and a smile pulling at her mouth. "It could be done so that both breasts were the same size and shape, and they would look at the possible nerve damage which is most probably the cause of your lack of feeling. It should be able to be fixed seeing as how you can feel pressure, but not specifics or textures." Santana tucked her legs under the chair and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "Would that be something you would be interested in?"

Santana cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably in her chair and licked over her lips slowly. "But," Her voice was weak, she could feel it about to crack, and she swallowed hugely before continuing. "But everything I've read on the internet, I have to be eighteen. Right?"

Lucy smiled, she should have known that Santana would have tried to find the solution herself. "Yes, but that is only for breast implants and purely cosmetic reasons, not for reconstructive reasons or with such a vastly noticeable difference such as yours."

Santana nodded slowly. "So, so, I could have surgery and they would look normal? I wouldn't have to wear special bras anymore?"

"We would need to discuss this with your parents of course, although, from your mother's insistence at getting you to discuss this with me, I don't think that should be a problem. But yes, if they gave their consent and once you understand the side effects and possible outcomes, your breasts could be made to look the same, normal." Suddenly Lucy felt Santana's body pressed against her own and the chair, arms around her neck. Just as quick, Santana had moved back around the desk and flopped back into her chair, smiling.

"Okay, how about we bring mum and dad back in and talk?"

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: September 2010:**

It was the first day of the new school year and Santana couldn't help but smooth her hands down the Cheerio's uniform top. Although it had always been tight (it had to be, she was supposed to be desirable after all), after her surgery she felt comfortable in a uniform top that actually fitted.

Her breasts defiantly looked bigger, even if it was just because her shirt was tighter and her bras were more supportive and better fitting, which would help support the rumour of a purely cosmetically motivated boob job. She felt so much more attractive, knowing that underneath she wasn't wearing a plain cotton t-shirt bra with a tacky feeling silicon fillet; instead a lacy black bra with red bows at the straps and the junction of the cups. Brittany had taken her to the mall to buy several new sets of underwear, following her into the changing room under the guise of 'assistance' taking every possible moment to gently cup and stroke and suck at the newly smoothed and even swells. Brittany had always said that Santana was hot (at first she had said beautiful, but it freaked out Santana and Brittany soon learnt that beautiful was too close to sounding meaningful, that hot or sexy were much better), but there had always been a voice in the back of her head saying she was lying.

This year was going to be the best year yet; her newly tightened uniform would make her even more popular and appealing to the jocks.

She smirked into the mirror.

This year was going to be the best year yet.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: November 2012:**

"Yeah, yeah." Alice poked her tongue out the others before sitting down, half draped over her girlfriend-who-wasn't-her-girlfriend Meghan. Santana didn't like Meghan; she and Alice had been sleeping together and dancing around the label of 'girlfriends' since the end of the summer when they had met at the first LGBT meeting of the year, but Meghan refused to admit that there was anything serious going on.

And was also sleeping with a girl in Santana's biology class.

And a girl in her dorm building.

"But, the _real _issue, is what are doing to stop Mopez being so pathetic 'cos her lady is back in USF?" Alice smirked and kicked at Santana's feet.

"Well," Hannah leant forward into the semi-circle. After Alice, Hannah had been the first to integrate Santana into their group. She was able to stay out of most of the drama by being a year older and having a girlfriend at Brown, and Santana liked her direct manner and laid back nature. "There is that burlesque show that started last week; you know the one Toni's ex is on. What's her group called, um, Lady Lover's," The group snorted and Santana crossed her arms over her chest disbelievingly. "Yeah, okay, so it's not the best name, but Georgie knows the bouncer so we'll be able to get in so long as we don't drink?" This earned her more groans. "Wait! Wait! Let me finish! Georgie may have had her eye on the bartender, so drinks are still a possibility so long as we don't tell the bouncer and are surreptitious." Hannah waited, seeing their expressions changing. "And we all know Lopez appreciates her lady dancers." Hannah winked at Santana.

Santana wrinkled her nose, and shook her head, pulling nervously at the grass by her hip. "Nah, I don't really feel like going out."

Alice sighed. "You can't be pathetic and whining forever Mopez, come - Ow! What the fuck was that for Hannah?" Alice rubbed her shoulder where Hannah had reached across and hit her, pouting pathetically, and twisted, waiting for Meghan to kiss her.

(Santana noticed that Meghan only did when Alice refused to turn around, and her opinion of Meghan kept falling.)

"That was for your severe case of foot-in-mouth Al! As much as I hate to admit it San, Queen Tactless is right. I know it's shit that your girlfriend has had to go back, but you can't let it get you down. Going out and having some fun, like watching some pretty women of all different types dancing in sexy lingerie and tight dresses and tuxes is just what you need." Santana bit her bottom lip, she didn't want to admit they were right, but she trusted Hannah's opinion.

Plus, dancing women.

George pocked at her gently. "Come on. We can get some drinks before we go to get a buzz, then just enjoy all the lovely legs and curves and the swirly pretty coloured costumes."

Hannah wiggled her eyebrows. "She's right. Come on. Please? At least your girl will be back in a couple of weeks, I've gotta wait another couple of months!"

Santana looked around the group, all in various stages of over enthusiastic, extravagant poses of begging before she rolled her eyes. "Fine! Fine! I'll go." There was a chorus of 'yay' before Santana laughed and slumped against George's shoulder. "When did I become such a push over?"

* * *

Santana was stood wrapped in a towel, with her hands on her hips and frowning at her small closet. She always hated trying to figure out what to wear, and normally Brittany would be stood right next to her with a hanger in her hands or an outfit draped over her arm.

Tonight, Santana had to make her own choice.

She was just about to at least get as far as her underwear, tugging at the top of her towel, when her door flew open and Alice, (dressed in a mid-thigh, tight white dress that instantly drew Santana's eye to her chest) closely followed by George (dressed in a pale green shirt and white tank top over loose, dark corduroy trousers, had covered her eyes with her hand, the other stretched out in front palm forwards) and Santana jumped, pressing her hand to her heart while hastily tightening the towel around her.

"Jesus fucking Christ Alice!" Santana's voice was high pitched and her eyes flickered between them and the still open door. "You can't just barge in here!"

"Chill out Lopez, not like it's anything I haven't seen before." Alice shrugged and flopped down onto the bed, tucking her hands underneath her head. "Anyway, George and I came here to help you dress. I knew that you wouldn't know what to wear." Alice lifted her head and smiled at Santana before lifting off the bed and walking over to stand next to Santana.

Santana sighed, its not like Alice knew any different. And she was right, Santana had no idea what to wear. She bumped Alice's shoulder to let her know there were no hard feelings before she turned back to George who was still stood in the doorway covering her eyes. She couldn't help but laugh, and the tension in the room melted.

"You can uncover your eyes, shut the door, sit on my bed and help me decide. 'K George?" George moved her hand down before kicking he door shut with her foot and moving to sit on the bed.

"Awesome, now, have you at least narrowed it down?" Alice asked, moving closer to the closet and flicking at the closest hanger. Santana nodded, she had narrowed it down, taking out all of her tight, tiny dress and skinny jeans or leggings. Normally it would be okay, Brittany would be there to cover any bulges that forced through even her tightest compression pants. And given they were going to a burlesque show, and there would be no Brittany, Santana didn't want to chance it.

She pointed to the pile of rejected tight clothing. "This pile is no. And everything else is a possibility."

Alice rolled her eyes. "That's hardly narrowing it down San." She turned to the (substantially larger) possible choices, sighing. "Okay, let's see what we have here." Santana grabbed her underwear and shuffled past Alice into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, Santana had blow dried her hair and was squeezed into her compressions pants and favourite bra tucking her towel back around her waist as she walked back into the room. George was sat on the bed with two piles of clothes either side of her facing Alice who had her hands on her hips her face frozen in concentration.

She turned at the sound of Santana walking back into the room, and her face instantly brightened. "Okay, I've narrowed it down to two options. Both are going to get you some lady attention, but not too much, and George approved them both."

Santana smiled in thanks (and to be honest, relief. Alice had a habit of choosing the tightest, smallest most risqué outfits for Santana to wear, who would then have to try and come up with a reason not to wear them) to George before looking at the two outfits.

"That one."

* * *

They all met outside of the bar, and Santana was already starting to regret her choice. She was in high waisted, flared dark blue trousers and a sharp, crisp white long sleeved shirt. A light blue thick belt emphasised her narrow waist and the matching cuff links glinted in the glowing lights from the surrounding bars, clubs and shops.

Hannah turned (dressed in her usual band t-shirt, skinny jeans and dark blazer) and looking Santana up and down, whistling lowly. "Dam Lopez. You look hot!"

"Always the tone of surprise." Santana arched her eyebrow challengingly.

Hannah snorted before hugging Santana quickly. "You are such a fucking dork, you do know that right?" Santana shrugged before smiling and nodding slightly. Hannah turned back towards the others pushing at their shoulders slightly. "Right, on with the show ladies!"

* * *

The burlesque show was only half way through, and thanks to Hannah's bottle of vodka that she had managed to smuggle in and the drinks being snuck to the group every so often from the bartender George had been flirting with, Santana was definitely feeling tipsy.

That, added to the whirls of colours from the walls and the costumes and the drinks that were bleeding together in front of her eyes, the loud music that was pounding at her ears and thrumming through her veins and the huge amounts of exposed skin that she simultaneous couldn't stop staring at and _had_ to stop staring at was beginning to make Santana feel light headed.

She also knew she was feeling the effects of the alcohol when, after a dancer who was still mostly fully clothed, but looked enough like Brittany to make her sufficiently hard enough to be uncomfortable (and so very thankful she had already vetoed anything short and tight before Alice walked into her room), she called Brittany on the brink of tears apologising for her eyes cheating on her (it took Brittany ten minutes to get Santana to fully explain what she meant) and for disrespecting and objectifying women. Another twenty minutes later, when the tears were mostly forgotten and Brittany's reassurances that it was okay to be excited by burlesque dancers and it was more than okay to enjoy their skills were the only things running through Santana's head, she declined the jack and coke George was holding, reaching for the bottle of water still unopened on the table.

"You having fun?" Hannah's asked bumping Santana's shoulders with her own.

Santana nodded before grinning goofily at Hannah and picking up Hannah's hands, idly playing with her fingers. "This may just be your best idea yet Han. I don't know why I didn't want to come! I mean; dancers, good, tight, small, flattering costumes, very good, curvy half naked women, extremely good, permission from girlfriend to watch and enjoy the afore mentioned curvy half naked women, perfect." Hannah smiled at Santana before she twisted the cap off the bottle of water.

"You, are drunk." Santana smiled again and nodded. "Drink some water Lopez. If nothing else you'll need to replace all those fluids you lost from drooling." Santana snorted before taking a swig from the bottle and leaning against Hannah's shoulder.

* * *

Santana woke up the next morning, in just her bra and (unbuttoned) trousers, curled up under a sheet on the floor of George's dorm room. She groaned and rolled over, trying to stretch out her legs, but hitting a soft body instead. Hannah was curled into her back, jeans puddled around her calves (probably because trying to take off skinny jeans whilst drunk is like trying to wrestle Lord Tubbington into his cleaning apron), blazer hanging of one armwith the hem of her t-shirt tucked into the bottom of her bra, and George was lying on her stomach across Hannah's feet in just her tank and running shorts. She felt Hannah's arms tighten around her waist before she groaned, opened her eyes and realised who she was spooning.

"Shit, sorry San. Force of habit to grip onto the closest body in my bed." Hannah murmured, loosening her grip slightly, but not pulling away.

Santana chuckled throatily, her voice low and croaky from sleep. "Yeah, that excuse would totally work Han, if we were in your bed, hell, any bed, and in your dorm room. You just wanna get a free all you can touch show of the twins here."

George propped herself up, tugging at the corners of her eyes and the sleep stuck there before turning towards the two, laughing. "San, her girlfriend is like, crazy curvy, her tits are at least twice as big as yours."

"Hey!" Both Santana and Hannah yelled before all three women cradled their heads in pain from the sudden noise.

"Wait, I'm too hungover, was that an insult or a compliment?" Hannah asked, head perched on Santana's arm. "Anyway," She quickly shifted her hand and squeezed the breast closest to her. "My girlfriend's boobs _are _bigger, but not quite twice as big Georgie."

They dissolved into soft laughter and Santana stretched her arms when they settled. "Finished molesting me yet?" She asked Hannah.

Hannah realised she was still gripping Santana's chest and giggled childishly before pushing herself upright, protecting her head as much as possible, then instantly falling back down when the jeans still tight around her calves prevented her steps. George and Santana shared a glance before they both burst out laughing fully; Hannah stuck her tongue out and pushed her foot against Santana's back.

"Oh shut up children."

* * *

A couple of hours later, Santana, George and Alice (who had apparently spent the night out in the corridor and joined them when Hannah opened the door to take a shower, hitting her in the head in the process) were snuggled up in George's bed with water and painkillers watching Hannah struggling with the last blister pack for herself.

"So, next time your lady love is in town, will we actually get to meet her or are you planning on not leaving your bed again?" Alice asked taking occasional delicate sips from the water bottle clasped like a life saver in her slightly shaky hands.

Santana rolled her eyes before smiling at Hannah. "Her name is Brittany. And we did leave my bed."

"Yeah for an intimate coffee break for like a couple of hours if that." Alice snorted. "So?"

Santana closed her eyes and leant her head against the wall. "So what Al?"

"Will we get to meet the great Brittany next time she visits?" Santana smiled unconsciously before rolling her neck and facing Alice.

"Maybe." She drawled, drawing out the word and tucking her lips inwards.

"How long have you guys being together?" Hannah settled her legs over George's and leant against her side.

"Um, officially, like a year and a half."

"Officially?" Alice quirked her eyebrows and poked at Santana's ribs.

Santana shifted uncomfortably.

Constantly pushing away Brittany and denying their relationship weren't her proudest moments and she didn't like to remember it.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: Early 2008:**

Brittany had changed her outfit at least four times and huffed at her reflection in her floor length mirror, about to change out of the light blue dress that clung to her torso and spun away from her legs when she heard the doorbell ring.

She looked at her bedside clock and frowned, mouth slightly opened and her eyes focused on the green luminescent dashes.

Santana was forty minutes early.

Unless it wasn't Santana.

"Britt, Santana's here."

Of course it was Santana.

Santana was early.

Brittany sighed and looked at her reflection once more before pulling at the skirt. "Guess this will just have to do then." She started walking down the stairs, but stopped half way down when she heard Santana's voice.

"Yeah, we just thought we would have a movie night; just us. Not interruptions from other girls."

"Or boys?" Annie Pierce whispered conspiratorially, and Brittany's stomach clenched at Santana's shy giggle and avoided, almost coy eyeline.

"Right." Brittany's eyes were itchy, prickly like long summer grass stalkers were brushing just below her lids, a sure sign she had tears building.

"I thought you were going somewhere though? Brittany said you were going out to eat or something?" Annie asked, inadvertently making Santana feel sick and her skin cool with sweat.

Brittany could see Santana's feet shifting uncomfortably. "Oh, really? No, no, just a, um, best friend movie night." Brittany decided to move further down the stairs, stomach still clenching uncomfortably, before she heard anything more and actually started to cry.

"Hey." Her voice was a lot softer than she wanted, scared, child-like, fearful. She wanted to sound at least a little angry, she wanted to sound confident, she wanted to sound like she knew this was going to happen all along. (She definitely wished that she wasn't wearing a fancy dress with perfectly applied makeup and carefully curled hair.) She cleared her throat. "Hi Santana." Reaching the bottom of the flight of stairs, Brittany felt even more of an idiot when she took in more of Santana than just her legs. Whilst _she_ had spent an hour trying to pick the perfect outfit, Santana was in a pair of loose, ripped jeans and a Cheerio's jumper. She was barely even wearing any makeup, her hair still in Cheerio's regulation ponytail.

Santana's eyes widened as she drank in Brittany. The blue made her eyes look deeper and mature, her carefully curled and teased hair framed her face perfectly, and the swirling material made the dress look like it was floating around her body whilst her breasts were pushed tightly upwards, drawing Santana's gaze and causing her to lick her lips and swallow thickly. Brittany couldn't hide the smirk when Santana tried to subtly shift the movies in her hand to cover her crotch, but it fell again when Santana shied away from her hug.

"Thanks mum." Brittany widened her eyes at Annie, who smiled a little, taking the hint and nodded her head before walking back into the kitchen calling 'have fun girls' over her shoulder. "I thought we were going on a date Santana?" Brittany asked, hoping if she didn't let Santana speak first she would get an honest answer.

Santana swallowed nervously at both her tone and the use of her full name. She reached out to take Brittany's hand, who instantly pulled back, before clearing her throat. "Yeah, like a friend date right? Movies, munchies and snuggles?"

"We kissed Santana." Brittany hissed. "Just friends don't kiss. Not like we did." Santana's eyes widened in fear, and she gripped tightly at Brittany's forearm before pulling her up the stairs and firmly shutting the bedroom door behind them.

"And it was…we shouldn't have done that. Girl's don't kiss each other like that." Brittany scrunched her forehead and nose in confusion. She _knew _Santana was attracted to her; the way her body reacted was more than enough evidence, (and she knew that she was attracted to Santana) but the enthusiastic returned kisses and the almost goofy smile on Santana's face when they fell asleep tangled up together made her certain. So what had happened in the week or so since? "Britt," Santana sighed sadly before taking Brittany's hands in her own. "It's against God, we could go to hell." Suddenly Santana was back in Church on Sunday, with her mother on her left and her Abuela on her right, hearing the newly ordained priest, in his suffocating black gown and glaring white dog collar, talking of the sin of homosexuality. Santana had felt her Abuela grip tighter to her hand whilst her fingers worked deftly over her Rosary beads. Afterwards she had taken Santana aside, and repeated what the priest had said, making sure Santana had understood the teachings, the repercussions and how her differing anatomy didn't change that.

"San, you haven't believed in God since, like, we were ten. Why do you care about what He thinks now?"

"Because it's wrong Britt! And it's not just God." Her Abuela's voice, calm and threatening and fearful ringing in her ears along with the whole congregation's agreement with their priest. "You think that we would remain on the Cheerio's or being so popular if we were dykes? If we were like Kurt?" Santana was trying to keep calm, and quiet enough that the Pierce's wouldn't hear her, but her eyes were widened in panic and her breathing was laboured, heavy, fearful the grip on Brittany's wrist tight enough to leave their skin white.

Brittany didn't know what to say.

She had always been taught by her parents that being different was a good thing (that being the same was just fine too) and that following your heart and being yourself (and most importantly accepting yourself) was the only way to be happy in life. But Santana always protected her, always tried to do things that benefited Brittany, and Brittany did know what had happened to Kurt.

What continued to happen to Kurt.

The daily dumpster dumps.

The almost hourly slushies.

His school notes peed on by the football team before being returned to his bag before he could miss them, several members following him around to watch his reaction and laugh at his tears.

Being locked into the girls locker room.

And suddenly Brittany also remembered one of their first days as Cheerio's when everything was still new and exciting.

She remembered the senior Cheerio, one of the best on the squad, who it was rumoured was dating a girl from another school after someone took a picture of the two together in Dayton and she hadn't tried to deny it or explain it away.

The senior Cheerio who was stripped of her uniform before having 'dyke' and 'homo' and 'rug muncher' scrawled onto her skin in Sharpie until finally being pushed into the boys' locker room.

Brittany didn't know for sure what had happened in there, but she had heard enough rumours to not want to ever find out. The Cheerio had returned even after she was released from hospital, Brittany assuming she had been home schooled.

She swallowed and licked suddenly dry lips, before squeezing Santana's hands tightly in her own and nodding. She may not fully understand exactly why Santana was so scared, (Santana was often scared of what Brittany never was, of what others would think. But, then again, she had been exposed to at least ten times as many bullies as Brittany had before they even reached high school; like the first grade teacher who got really angry at her endless questions and called her a loud mouthed spic, or the boys in the year above who called her family boarder hoppers during every recess between first and third grade and the girls in third grade who saw Santana with her Abuela for the first time and laughed at her thick accent and rolling Spanish vowels and the Rosary clutched in between her weathered, strong fingers) but Brittany trusted Santana implicitly.

So she squeezed her hands.

And she nodded.

"Friends. Just friends." Brittany whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter their protective bubble.

"Best friends." Santana whispered firmly.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: April 2008:**

It was their first popular party that they had been invited to by name and not by extension of being a Cheerio. The room was dim and even standing at the edge with a half full lukewarm beer in her hand, Brittany couldn't help but move her body to the thump that reverberated through the house and through her body.

Brittany and Santana were standing close together, leant against the wall; Brittany from solidarity and Santana from the fear of a boy's wandering, drunk hands discovering her secret. Suddenly Puck appeared, squeezing between them and slinging his arms over their shoulders.

"Hello ladies. Are you having fun?" He wiggled his eyebrows before moving his arm from Santana's shoulder and running his hand over his burgeoning Mohawk, then leerning down Brittany's loose tank top.

Santana huffed in annoyance at his stare before pushing him away from Brittany. "Well, we _were_," She sipped at her drink, before scrunching her face in disgust and turning away from him.

"Okay, okay," Puck stepped away from them to face them hands held up defensively. "How about, if I could get you ladies something better to drink?"

Brittany smiled widely. "Awesome!"

"What's in it for you Puckerman?" Santana knew Puck had a reputation, and that nothing was gained for free from the football players.

"Well, I'll get you something better to drink if," He paused dramatically, stroking at his mohawk in faux thought. "I know. If you two, _fine _ladies make out. In front of me."

Brittany felt her heartbeat speed up. She had wanted to kiss Santana again as soon as they had stopped a mere month before, but Santana had explained and been so adamant that people wouldn't like it. So why was Puck, popular and cool despite having to repeat his first year of high school, asking them to do it like it would be a favour to him?

Brittany turned towards Santana, trusting her to make the best decision for both of them.

(A small part of her was also crossing her fingers and hoping that Santana would agree.)

Santana held Puck's slightly dunk-sloppy lascivious smirk, trying to ignore the desperate tug in the bottom of her stomach and the heat pooling and twisting throughout her body.

"What's the drink on offer?"

Puck smiled widely, like a five year old told that Christmas would be happening on every day his birthday wouldn't be. "Vodka."

Santana narrowed her eyes at him, before stepping forward aggressively. "Only if you show us the bottle before we do it, and we're not doing it in front of all of your puck-head and football douche buddies. Agreed?"

"Fuck yes! Agreed! Wait here, I'll be right back."

Brittany turned to Santana, switching between confused and excited. "But, San, I thought you said that two girls kissing was wrong, and people wouldn't like it."

Santana scratched at her nose and pulled her fingers through her hair in annoyance. "This is different. If you're doing it to turn a boy on, then that's okay. Understand?"

Brittany shrugged one shoulder non-committedly and Santana sighed, taking Brittany's hand after glancing around the room.

"B," Santana opened her mouth to further explain, but Puck returned, almost running in his enthusiasm, and she snapped her jaw shut before smirking at Puck.

"Ladies, if you'll follow me and my fine clear spirited friend." He held up and shook the half empty bottle of cheap vodka and turned off into one of the side rooms before waiting for an answer. Santana took Brittany's pinky and followed him, making sure the door was closed behind them and that they were really alone. Puck was sprawled in the armchair, pouring the vodka into what looked like two glasses of coke, and he turned expectantly towards them. "Well, kisses first, then drinks."

Brittany was feeling more and more uneasy about the deal, and Santana could sense that Brittany was getting close to saying no. "How about, B and I have a shot each, just to warm up. Can't kiss without," Santana paused and flickered her eyes up Brittany's body before turning to Puck. "A little lubrication right?" Puck's eyes widened in shook, and he nearly threw the bottle at Santana.

With the alcohol burning down her throat and into her stomach, Brittany suddenly felt much braver and smiled a little at Puck before turning to face Santana.

She still didn't fully understand why they could kiss in front of Puck but not in her bedroom, but soon Santana's soft lips, sticky from her lip gloss and sugary mixers, were sliding against her own and a hand was gripped at her waist. She vaguely registered Puck egging them on, and a promise of more than one drink if they included tongue, but her senses were on overload, and all she really registered was Santana.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: May 2008:**

It was their first sleepover by themselves since the party when they kissed, and Santana had been more than careful at making sure they were never in a position to kiss again.

Other than at parties.

Apparently it was acceptable to kiss Santana at parties, so long as there was alcohol.

And boys that would whistle and yell and give them more drinks.

Brittany still had no idea why though, and was too worried to bring it up with Santana, deciding instead to just enjoy the feelings of kissing Santana. Especially if Santana had had more than too much to drink and she would have to press against Brittany to hide the beginning of a hard on that the mixture of alcohol, Brittany and her hormones had caused.

But this was their first sleepover by themselves since that first party.

And Brittany was stood nervously pulling at the threads of her pillow, pulled protectively against her body outside of Santana's house. The door swung open and Brittany almost jumped in surprise, trying to smile at the appearance of Sofia's curious smile.

"Brittany? Are you okay?"

Brittany laughed nervously, pushing and her hair behind her ears; even though it already was tied back in (Santana's favourite) scarf. "Yeah, sorry Mrs Dr L. Long day. Zoned out for a little bit."

Sofia smiled and opened the door wider, indicating for Brittany to come in. "Santana's in her room, I tried to get her down and open the door for you, but apparently she has something to…finish?" Sofia mock frowned before smiling softly at Brittany.

"Finish?" Sofia shrugged at Brittany, before gently pushing her towards the stairs. "Oh well, suppose I should find out then." Brittany walked slowly up the stairs, hesitant as to what she would find, but half way up the scent of warm popcorn and the flicker lights of a darkened room and a TV screen reached her and she took the last few stairs quicker.

She pushed Santana's door open (they hadn't knocked when entering each other's rooms since they were seven, Brittany wasn't going to start now) and found Santana bent over what looked like a camp stove in her Cheerio's sweats and a tank top. "San?"

Santana turned and smiled softly at Brittany before extending her arm and wiggling her fingers in invitation. "Tonight Ms. Pierce, we have sweet, salty and buttered popcorn, a selection of Disney, horror and, though disgustingly mushy, chick flicks that you love for your viewing pleasure."

Brittany smiled softly before sliding their fingers together and squatting down next to Santana. She flicked through the DVDs before tugging one out and biting her lip. She had been wanting to see this film again for ages but she knew Santana would hate it (well, she would like the inclusion of Drew Barrymore but would never admit it). "Can we watch this one? Please?" Brittany didn't really know why she was testing Santana.

She just knew that she needed to.

Santana read the cover and sighed. "I did say anything." She lifted the popcorn from the camp stove emptying it into the plastic bowl next to her, and awkwardly opened the case one handed. They settled back onto the bed and Brittany felt like she could breathe easily. This was comfortable, just like every other sleepover, and she smiled as the opening credits began snuggling closer into Santana's side.

* * *

Three films later, the fourth about half way through, Santana was fighting to stay awake while Brittany was running on the euphoria of being pressed against Santana again and couldn't think of anything worse than falling asleep. Santana yawned widely and turned her body to press more comfortably along Brittany's, moving her head to rest her chin on Brittany's shoulder.

"Can this be the last film Britt-Britt? I'm so tired." Brittany giggled before running her fingers along Santana's arm and side. Her touch was light, she didn't want to push anything, (only she did, but she understood that she shouldn't) but when Santana settled further into her instead of pulling away, Brittany pressed harder.

"Sure thing Sanny." Santana hummed in thanks, turning to face the TV screen again.

* * *

There was only about ten minutes left of the film, and Brittany had become more and more confident with her touches, especially when Santana gave up shifting trying to hide the slight hardening between her legs.

Brittany crossed her fingers before shifting and leaning to press her lips gently against Santana's forehead.

When Santana didn't react, she kissed her again, firmer.

And again just above her eye.

Twice along the curve of her cheekbone.

Once, quickly followed by the brush of her nose, down her cheek.

At this Santana tightened her grip around Brittany's waist before bringing their faces together. Her eyes were dark, and her breathing was rapid, landing against Brittany's chin and lips in short pants. She looked into Brittany's eyes before pressing their foreheads together.

"We," She licked her lips and her lashes fluttered shut at the slow movement of Brittany's fingers at the waistband of her sweats. "Britt, we can't tell anyone. Understand? No one. This is different than when we are drunk at parties and kissing for boys. No one can know." Santana's voice was low and desperate and Brittany could see fear flickering behind the obvious swirling black-brown lust. Brittany still didn't understand where such intense fear came from. They had only become _more _popular and invited to _more _parties since they started kissing at boy's requests. But she could _see_ Santana's fear, and that was more than enough to get her to nod her head.

"I promise San. No one will know." Santana cupped her cheek and softly pressed her fingers into the skin, but didn't make any move to kiss her. "I promise on Lord Tubbington and mum and dad. I swear I won't tell anyone. Please. Please just kiss me."

Santana took a deep breath before closing her eyes and tilting her head to press their lips together.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: November 2012:**

"Hey! Spacey!" Alice pinched Santana's cheek and she jumped slightly.

"Jeez Al! Yeah, we've been fooling around since we were like thirteen, fourteen." Santana sighed and looked at the ceiling, unwilling to continue.

"But one of you couldn't handle being gay in Bumfuck nowhere Bible belt America?" Hannah asked, drawing Santana's eyes back to them. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you?"

Santana smiled grimly before she nodded once. "Yup." The p popped loudly and Santana ran her tongue over her lips. "For like, three years. Then I got outted in my senior year by some hypocritical hero complex douche bag, that also resulted in a state wide political campaign that outted me and lying about it seemed useless. Plus I had Britt. Maybe that should have come first." Santana shook her head, thinking about this was painful and complex without the hangover. "How'd you know it was me?"

Hannah smiled softly and Alice snorted beside her. "Because you care what other people think, and from the sounds of it Brittany doesn't." Hannah answered.

"Yeah, plus you're a control freak." Alice added. Santana frowned and nudged her with her elbow.

"What the fuck's that got to do with anything?"

"Because figuring out who you are, especially your sexuality is confusing as fuck, especially if you are a control freak. You have all these feelings for people that society tells you you shouldn't, and no matter how hard you try and stop, you can't. You also have to figure out what label, if any, fits especially as labels probably would make you feel better. And if people even get a little hint of what you are going through, you have no control over what they think or how they react. You know I hate to admit that Alice is right, but, she's right San." George smiled before kissing Santana's cheek and patting her knee.

"Yeah!" Alice held her hand up for a high five, but Santana just groaned and stuck her tongue out. "Fine. Whatever. See, Alice is not dumb. Anyways ladies, love to stay and chat, but I have to go and meet my woman." Santana huffed in annoyance and glared at the floor at the mention of Meghan, while Hannah frowned slightly.

"Thought you said you weren't dumb?" She said.

Alice pulled herself off the bed and crossed her arms defensively. "Hey, shut up. It's not what…she's different when it's just us."

"Yeah, sure she is. Problem is she's also different with like three other girls. And those are only the ones we know about it." Santana's voice came out harsher than she meant, but she didn't want to take it back. It was true, and she thought it was about time Alice released she could do better.

Much better.

"Fuck you Santana. We can't all have _perfect _girlfriends to rub in everyone else's faces and fuck all weekend." Alice bit back.

George sighed and sat up, trying to reach out for Alice's hand and play diplomatic peacemaker. "Come Alice, you know it's not like that, and that she's not saying it to be a bitch."

"I just meant you can do better than a girl who only wants you when she can't find anyone else." Santana internally cringed. That hadn't come out in the way she meant. "Shit, Al, sorry, that's not – that came out wrong."

"No, it's fine. You're wrong. Fuck you." Alice stormed out and slammed the door behind her, making all three wince at the loud sound.

"Tactfully put Lopez."

"Yeah, thanks for that Hannah, you know I didn't mean it the way it sounded. Don't ever tell her I said this, but she's hot. And she's reasonably smart and shit. She can do much better than Meghan who seems to fuck anything that has tits and will spread her legs."

"You have such a way with words, anyone ever told you that?" George smiled, leaning back against the wall beside Santana.

"Yeah, she can do better, but right now, that's not what she wants to hear and she's not going to believe it." Hannah pushed at Santana's legs and settled onto her other side. "You know you're going to have to apologise the next time you see her right?" Santana nodded picking at her nails. "How about I talk to her about Meghan? I think we can all agree that Alice is just going to end up getting hurt."

"And you're the only one with an ounce of empathy and tact along with the balls to confront her." George agreed.

"Exactly." Hannah smiled before taking both of their hands. "Now, how about we go and get some coffee and some food?"

* * *

**Berkeley, California: November 2012: The Next Day:**

Santana stood outside of Alice's room, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. She hadn't seen Alice since she had left the room yesterday, and suspected that she was being avoided. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair in annoyance. She was Santana Lopez, she had an entire Cheerio's team cowering even _after_ they found out she was gay. She could knock on the door of the girl who was fast becoming her best friend right? It was just a few little words. She could do it.

She rolled her eyes at herself (fuck, she's not only talking to herself but _rolling _her fucking _eyes _at herself, could she get any more pathetic? At this rate she would be giving Manhands a run for her money) and knocked twice solidly, confidently on the door.

She was ready to knock on the door again, when she heard the lock snap and the door opened, revealing Alice already walking back towards her bed.

"Hey Al," Santana's voice was soft, she was trying to not annoy Alice and something felt off. It wasn't until Alice slumped onto the bed and turned to look at Santana, with a red nose and puffy sore looking eyes, that she _knew_ something was wrong. (She instantly wished Brittany was there. She was _shit _making people feel better. Most of the time, she just managed to make the feel worse.) "Is," She swallowed. "Are you," Santana closed the door, taking the time with her back facing Alice to mentally face palm. (She was really fucking useless at this.) "What happened Al?" Santana turned and went to sit on the bed.

Alice wasn't looking at her, instead she took a long, painful sounding sniff before she shrugged and curled tighter into herself. Santana let the room fall into silence again, but the awkwardness started to prick at her skin and she sighed. (Brittany would have already gotten Alice to laugh by now, likely Quinn would have gotten her to sit up and wash her face. Hell, even _Berry_ probably would have annoyed her so much with incessant talking that Alice would be sat up and using tissues instead of her sleeve.) "Look, Al, I'm really sorry for what I said. I mean, you deserve better than Meghan, but I shouldn't have been such a bitch about it. I'm sorry."

Suddenly Alice burst into loud sobs and pulled Santana down onto the bed, clinging to her desperately. Santana's eyes widened in shock and she froze for several seconds, before her arms circled around Alice's waist and she twisted them into a more comfortable position.

Santana stayed silent and still, letting Alice cry it out, occasionally running her hand down her back or through her hair, deciding that at least by staying silent she couldn't make Alice feel worse.

After what Santana was sure was several agonising hours, Alice pulled back and rubbed at her eyes. "Sorry San, I snotted over your shirt." Santana shrugged, and smiled nervously.

"You wanna talk about it Al?" Santana reached and brushed at the last couple of tears caught along Alice's jaw and made a zip motion across her mouth. "I swear I won't open my big mouth. I'll just listen."

Alice laughed, thick with tears, before she settled back down on the bed against Santana. "I went to meet Meghan yesterday, like we had agreed. I get to her dorm room, and I was gonna just walk in, I mean, she knew I was coming, but her roommate is a bit uptight about her privacy and shit, so I knocked." She sniffed again and shuffled her feet underneath the duvet. "No one answered, so I figured Meghan was still asleep and her roommate was either out or also asleep, either way, I figured it would be alright to open to door. So, so I opened it and," Alice's voice cracked and Santana pulled her closer, holding her tighter. "Shit San, her fucking head was between some fucking bitch's legs. I mean, she had to have heard me, and then she turns looks at me, fucking smiles and waves before going back to eating this fucking slut out!" Sobs broke out again, and Alice clung tighter to Santana.

"I'm sorry Al, I'm really, really sorry."

* * *

A/N: Hmm…I don't know if I like this or not, it kind of ended in a completely different place than I meant for it to. I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway.

Okay, so, with Santana's boob job, everything I could find online stated that 18 was the minimum age limit, even with parental consent, for breast implants and only reconstructive or corrective surgery could be done at a younger age; so, I took some liberties with Santana's physical appearance, which I hope was believable. And I always hated the boob job story line and the fact that it was dropped as soon as it couldn't cause anymore drama!

Hope this was worth the wait and that people haven't given up on me! Review if you are so inclined. Please? ^.^


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hi guys! So, it appears that Google failed me once more, and so Brittany has changed schools and courses once again; thanks **Bart** for pointing that out to me! If you're the kind of person who wants to know why, see my end note.

Thanks for the reviews/alerts, I hope people are still enjoying this.

Also, I will be posting this on my tumblr (noinhibitor dot tumblr dot com) later on tonight or tomorrow, once I've figured out just how to do it.

Reviews as ever would be super appreciated ^.^

* * *

**Berkeley, California: November 2012:**

Alice had started the rest of the week carefully avoiding Meghan whilst Hannah and Santana gladly glared at her at any chance, instantly, gladly, falling into protective modes.

Alice's want for distractions also unfortunately meant that she had planned enough events and trips and activities for when Brittany came that weekend, to keep them all busy for a month. When Hannah had gently explained to Alice that there was no possible way to do everything ("Well, Brittany _is _working on her time machine." Santana had muttered under her breath) in a single weekend, her face had crumpled, lips wobbling and refused to come out of the bathroom for close to an hour. And even then it was only at George's soft encouragement and the promise of triple chocolate ice cream.

Alice had also spent each day and evening moving between George, Hannah and Santana's dorm rooms and had managed to read all of her class readings for the rest of the term, and the three friends made sure that Meghan couldn't contact Alice at any time, one of them making sure they had Alice's phone to intercept texts and phone calls and deleting or removing any copies of Meghan's phone number that they found.

After the first couple of days of sharp words and glares, Meghan had begun to avoid any of the group (Hannah and Santana were incredibly proud of that and couldn't stop the smug smiles every time they say Meghan abruptly change direction away from them,) and although Alice wasn't quite herself again yet, she had at least stopped breaking down into sobs at the smallest reminder of Meghan or the sight of random couples.

Santana also thought that Brittany's visit couldn't be any more opportune; she had never met anyone better at cheering people up and making them feel better about themselves.

Plus, she would get to see Brittany again.

It was win win.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: November 2012: The Train Station:**

Santana was stood on the slightly windy platform trying to decide if this was worse or better than last time. This time, instead of pacing up and down along the platform by herself she was with Hannah, George and Alice, the latter also holding a giant yellow 'Welcome Back Home' helium balloon in the shape of a flower, that she had used a sharpie to correct to read 'Welcome Back to Santana's Bed'.

"Alice, I don't think she'll appreciate that." George's calm voice floated into the still evening. She had been trying to subtly suggest that Alice get rid of the balloon, finally deciding that being blunt was the only way to get Alice to listen to her.

"Why not? It shows that I thought of her, personalised it, and I even got it in her favourite colour. And I haven't even met the girl. It shows I care!" Alice defended, hugging the balloon to her body just in case one of them reached for the string.

"No, it makes it look like San told us everything that happened. Which she didn't." Hannah tried to explain, eyes flickering to where she could see Santana's back a few feet away from them.

"Oh, she won't care. They can't _both _be as uptight as Santana, 'cos Jesus that would be a scary couple." Alice scoffed, taking a protective step back.

"I still don't think-" Hannah was cut off by the sounds of the train and Alice grin smugly.

"Too late!" Alice crooned. "Trains here! She will have seen it from the window and it would just look rude to get rid of it now." Hannah sighed and looked at George who just shrugged, never the first to get involved in confrontation, and turned to face the train that was slowing alongside the platform.

Santana had heard the argument on the way to the station in the car, and so when they reached the platform she deliberately stepped away, not wishing to repeat it. She had already tried to get Alice to get rid of the balloon, but apparently she was partly responsible as Alice had mysteriously asked Brittany's favourite colour and if she liked flowers, a few days ago. She wasn't really sure how logical that argument was, but by the time Alice brought it up half way to the station, she was too nervous and excited and happy to really be listening properly or continue the argument.

She watched as all the doors on the carriages opened, the sound pressing at her ears and pulling at her skin, until Brittany stepped onto the concrete platform and, like every sappy cliché, the only thing she noticed was Brittany and the steady grumble of her small carry on cases wheels along the uneven surface. It seemed to take forever to Santana until she was wrapped in those long, strong arms again and her nose was pressed against soft skin, inhaling that familiar citrus shampoo.

"Sanny?"

"Hmm?" Santana didn't want to pull away to answer properly, instead squeezing once to let Brittany know she was listening.

"Why are there three girls staring at us? And why," Brittany squinted through the quickly darkening evening. "Is one of them holding a balloon saying something about your bed?"

Santana sighed through a laugh before kissing once at Brittany's neck and turning out of her arms. She took Brittany's hand and lead her back over to her friends, including Alice who was pulling enthusiastically at the balloon string to try and make it wave.

"This is Hannah, George and Alice, who you can ignore completely if you like, we all do." Brittany smiled at each in turn, giggling softly as Alice's hurt look, before lifting her head up and mouthing the words on the balloon as she read them.

"Why are you welcoming me back to your bed San? I thought you said that we weren't allowed to do that all weekend like last time?"

Hannah and George tried to hide their laughter whilst Santana's mouth popped open a little and her eyes skittered to the floor.

"See!" Alice cried triumphantly. "I _knew _she would like the balloon! You guys with your namby-pamby 'its rude Alice', 'it'll give the wrong impression Alice'; well you were wrong." In her excitement Alice's grip had loosened around the string and George watched silently as it floated gently upwards and into the sky, bright yellow against the inky night.

"Um, I think your balloon escaped." Brittany pointed superfluously above her head.

Alice stopped mid-gloat and her head followed Brittany's finger. "Aw man. I paid a dollar for that balloon!"

"Seriously? A whole dollar? Man, in _that _case, it was totally awesome." Hannah deadpanned.

"That was sarcasm wasn't it?" Alice asked, still looking upwards and searching as if she would be able to find and retrieve it. "You know, they say that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"Well, luckily I wasn't going for witty then." Hannah said, turning towards the exits gates and the car.

Brittany smiled and kissed at Santana's forehead whispering. "I'm glad the balloon escaped. It was kinda creepy."

"Agreed Sweatbee, agreed."

* * *

They were all sat in a circle in Santana's dorm room, and the bed bounced as Hannah squashed in between Brittany and George with handfuls of pamphlets and tourist brochures and print out pages.

"So, Alice went a little bit tourist crazy and hasn't left her room slash a computer and printer slash the college tourist info desk in like a week, so you have like a million options to choose from Britt." Hannah said as she laid everything out in the middle of them.

"Yeah, understatement on the 'bit'" Santana said, kicking at Alice across the circle. "But seriously, she gave you enough options to keep us busy until we graduate and then some, but George went through them and got rid of the ones which revolved around porn, things that die and things that would take at least a day to get to." Santana kissed the back of Brittany's hand, followed by Alice making gagging sounds, as she leant forward to pull the pile closer to them.

"Thanks Georgie. But, um, I don't really mind what we do."

"No! No B, you can't say that because then Alice will choose something awful or cry if we choose and she doesn't get her choice, but if _you _choose she can't cry. Or choose."

"Fine! Okay, give me the…obscenely large pile of stuff to do."

* * *

**Berkeley, California: November 2012: UC Berkeley Botanical Gardens:**

They had been at the gardens for almost three hours, and Hannah and George were lagging behind the other three, talking quietly between themselves about Gothic literature and the merits of Romantic versus modern Gothic authors.

When Brittany had pushed the Botanical Garden brochure to the top of the 'definite' pile, Santana had expected Alice to be the first to complain, but she had instead, excitedly grabbed the glossy, folder paper, immediately saying all of the different tours that she had thought looked really good (even if they were mostly meant for primary school kids) and trying to figure out which ones would be best given the current weather. The others had been quiet (mostly from shock) for so long that Brittany and Alice had decided on seven different tours that would take about nine hours to complete, when Hannah jolted forward, taking the brochure back.

"No." she had stated plainly. "You can each pick _one _tour and then we will decide on a third tour that all of us want to do as a maybe. If there is time."

Brittany opened her mouth to argue, but seeing the look on Hannah's face, changed her mind, instead snuggling up closer to Santana and pouting slightly. "Sanny? Can I pick two tours? Please?"

Santana looked helplessly between Brittany's pouting expression and Hannah's indignant, disbelieving one several times before her shoulders slumped and she sighed.

"Yeah, B, you can pick two." Brittany instantly smiled and fist pumped the air before high five-ing Alice as Hannah shook her head, trying to stop the smile.

"You are so fucking whipped Lopez."

"Whatever. You try saying no to that pout!" Brittany giggled as she riffled through the papers in front of her to choose the next activity, settling back to kiss Santana's cheek briefly with a few glossy sheets of paper clutched in her hand.

"Thanks San."

And so here they were, finally now slowly making their way to the gift shop, pulling their jackets close after just leaving the last of the humidly warm greenhouses where they had had the extreme environments tour. Brittany and Alice were talking animatedly over Santana's head who was listening contentedly, occasionally turning back to cheek that they hadn't lost Hannah and George.

Brittany had managed to touch nearly every single plant; especially in the first greenhouse. It housed the cacti and succulents (Alice had frowned a little at the sign that explained it was one of the largest cacti and succulent collections in the world; "They're the same thing." She'd muttered, before Hannah had nudged and shushed her, pointing the look of wonder on Brittany's face) and she couldn't help but squeeze every plump leaf, brush her fingers delicately over soft hairs, sniff at the few pungent flowers that were open in the artificially controlled climate and get as close as she dared (or rather as Santana would let her) to the sharp prickles in black and grey and green. Brittany had spent so long just staring at each plant, that if they weren't the only people on the tour, she would have been left behind several times.

The next section of the tour was Alice's favourite, there was so much information on the edaphic and climatic requirements of each one of the orchids, ferns and carnivorous plants, and often diagrams or explanations of their evolutionary chains too, but many of the plants were too dangerous or delicate or expensive for Brittany to touch.

They both stood, open mouthed, necks craning trying to look at everything at once, reaching out to point out things to one another, and every few steps Brittany would stop and take a deep breath. She loved that no matter what plant she was stood near to, she could always smell damp earth and wood and heat, sometimes made more bitter when soft floral scents were poking through, and Santana could tell when Brittany found a scent she enjoyed as she would stand with her eyes closed and take several long, deep breaths.

Even Santana was willingly standing in wonder in front of the more intricately and unusually shaped carnivorous plants, eyes trailing over their beautiful and exotic patterning whilst gripping Brittany's hand to try and stop her from touching. Not that many of them could hurt her, especially not severely, but Santana didn't really want any digestive juices that got stuck onto Brittany's fingers to be wiped along her sleeve, or worse her face or hands.

By the time they reached the last part of the tour, Hannah and George were beginning to ask when they could go and eat, tugging at Santana's shirt like children. But when they walked into the finial greenhouse, even they stopped at the sight and smell and feel of it.

It was the most humid of all of the greenhouses, and the smell of dark, hot, wet earth was almost overpowering, even when only stood in the entrance to the Tropical House.

There was so much to see, even just from the entrance, that they all stood still for several seconds, before the tour guide beckoned them over, pointing to the closest rubber tree with elaborate looking hanging pots on strings holding a viscous white fluid that Brittany immediately longed to touch.

She smiled genuinely when she was invited to, not hesitating to gently dip her finger into the closest bowl, wrinkling her nose at the unexpected coolness and dragging it through the liquid slowly. She pulled her finger out, and her mouth popped open at the way a delicate film formed, quickly crumbling when she rubbed her fingers together.

"Awesome!" She muttered, before looking back up at the guide and smiling widely. "Can I do it again?"

* * *

"Okay!" Hannah called as they wandered back to Santana's car. "George and I get to pick the food. It's only fair seeing as we had to be dragged around that glorified garden."

"Stop your moaning! At least you didn't have to pay." Alice said over her shoulder.

"Yeah, true. Although, why on earth were _you _so excited to go?" Hannah asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she leant against the car.

"Duh, I do geographical sciences. Can't do that and not be a little bit interested in plants and shit."

"And there she ruins it by ending with 'and shit'" Santana laughed behind them.

"Yeah well, her brain is probably imploding at the amount of information she would have had to have taken in today."

"Are you trying to intimate that I am less than a genius?"

"No. that's exactly what I'm saying." Hannah smiled, nudging Alice good naturedly.

"Whatever. You'll be eating your words when I'm some expert diamond finder or great oil hunter, finder, person." Alice said, lifting her nose in faux snobbery.

"How can you hunt oil? It's inanimate and therefore, obviously, sessile." Brittany asked softly. "Plus, America reached its peak oil production a while ago, even Canada has, and some experts estimate that global peak oil production will be reached over the next couple of years."

Santana crossed her arms over her chest and smirked smugly at the others slightly stunned faces. "Yeah, my girl's a fucking general knowledge expert along with being a genius." She kissed Brittany's cheek gently, which was warm and slightly blush pink dusted. "Now come on, food. I'm hungry and I can hear B's stomach growling from here."

* * *

They had finally closed the door behind Alice, and Santana slumped back onto the bed, automatically curling herself around Brittany and threading their fingers together.

"Did you have a nice day Britt-Britt?" Santana kissed Brittany's shoulder while pulling her tighter against her.

"Yes. Your friends are really nice. Especially as George and Hannah were board. They didn't have to do something they didn't want to do."

Santana smiled as Brittany's kindness. "Take advantage of it, trust me, this will be the only chance you get. This weekend you're a guest, next time you come, you'll be treated like the rest of us."

Brittany wriggled in Santana's arms, turning until their noses were touching. "So, tomorrow, should I see if they would agree to," She bit her bottom lip in thought, suddenly yawning. "Hmm, I dunno, I can't think of something really boring, I'm too tired."

Santana pouted as she ran her fingers down Brittany's exposed arm. "Tired?" Brittany tried to smirk, but it was ruined by the shiver that ran through her body.

Instead she leant forwards to brush her lips against Santana's ear. "Well, too tired to think anyway." She kissed softly, wetly, against the skin and flickered out her tongue when she felt Santana's cheeks move in a smile.

Santana shifted her legs, to be able to push herself and Brittany over, and hovered teasingly above her. She pressed their hips together firmly, quickly, before lifting herself off again. "How about, you take these," Brittany reached around the Santana's waist and under her shirt, fingers tucking into the waistband of her compression pants. "Off and into something more comfortable whilst I go and brush my teeth?" Santana smiled wide before chastely kissing Brittany's cheek and rolling off the bed.

* * *

Santana loved being with Brittany like this. She loved just lying next to her, their kisses moving fluidly between soft and slow and gentle to open and hot and desperate and back again. It made her heart pound heavily and comfortingly in her chest and her skin prickle with heat and excitement and so irrevocably connected to Brittany that nothing else existed for them.

Brittany pulled away in need of air, chest heavy and neck and cheeks red. Santana thought she looked utterly stunning and for a moment her chest tightened before Brittany's small smile made the air rush from her in a large, loud whoosh.

"I missed you San." Her voice was thick and low and breathy and it made Santana press tighter to her.

"I missed you Britt." Brittany scrunched her nose cutely before lightly walking her fingers down Santana's side and sliding into the loose basketball shorts and boxers, gripping tightly at Santana's hip.

Brittany brushed their noses together as her hand stilled on Santana's hip, fingers brushing along the smooth skin and the few hairs she could find. "Let me show you how much."

* * *

Santana was barely awake when Brittany was bouncing excitedly from foot to foot at the head of the bed, occasionally tugging at Santana's exposed arm.

Santana groaned, trying to retreat further under the covers, but being prevented by Brittany's strong fingers gripped around her wrist.

"San! San! San!" Santana groaned again, even louder than before, and scrunched her eyes shut trying to shut out the light spreading into the room through the opened curtains. "Santana!" Brittany's voice was sharper than usual, but when even that didn't work she pulled at Santana's arm and whined . "Saaaaaantaaaaaanaaaaaaa!"

Santana could almost hear the pout through her words, and as much as she wanted to just roll over and go back to sleep, she had never been able to fight Brittany's pout. "Fine, fine! I'm awake Britt." Brittany instantly smiled brightly and sat down on the edge of the bed running her fingers through the dark hair that was spread messily against the pillow.

"Good morning San." Brittany smiled as she leant forward and kissed Santana's forehead chastely.

"Good morning Britt. Ready for today?"

"Obviously." Santana smiled and scrunched her nose, using Brittany's body to help pull herself upwards in bed.

"Okay, well, I'm going to go and take a shower so we can be ready for when the others come."

"Would there happen to be space for one more in that shower?" Brittany asked wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and biting her bottom lip in just the way she knew drove Santana crazy.

Santana looked at the clock on her bedside table, quickly working out how much time they had before Alice would undoubtedly walk through her door without knocking. "Certainly."

* * *

**Berkeley, California: November 2012: Contra Costa Rock Park:**

After yesterday's trip to the botanical gardens, Brittany had made sure that everyone wanted to come to the outdoor park where the chance to try rock climbing instantly excited her. Brittany was bouncing in her seat for the whole car ride, and was the first out of the car, before it had even stopped completely, trying to take in every sight at once, spinning gracefully on the balls of her feet in slow circles.

Once they were all out of the car, Brittany had already walked a few paces in one direction, before coming back to the car and starting to walk a few paces in another. Hannah couldn't stop the giggle at watching Brittany so desperate to explore, and yet no idea where to start.

"Your girl is quite possibly one of the most adorable people I've ever met San." She said, punching lightly at Santana's shoulder.

"Yep." Santana answered, popping the p and smiling smugly. "Where to B?" She called louder and extending out her hand for Brittany to hold onto and help her brain stop trying to take everything in at once and make a decision.

As their fingers laced together Brittany took a deep breath, then took a slow circular look around the park before pointing. "That way." She said firmly.

"Okay, what the fuck was that. She was like a cat with a new catnip toy…and now she's not." Alice said poking at Brittany's stomach playfully.

"I just get a little…hyperactive sometimes. If I can touch someone, especially someone familiar it like…stops my brain from trying to focus on and understand everything at once and just focus on one thing." Brittany tried to keep her voice confident, she was still sensitive about her perceived intelligence, and she could feel her cheeks and neck redden.

"Her brain is just too over attentive for it's own good and likes to try and take in everything at once. Now, come on, Britt's leading the way." Santana gripped Brittany's hand reassuringly and started walking the way Brittany had pointed, wordlessly ending the conversation.

* * *

The park was absolutely breath taking, and soon it wasn't just Brittany that didn't know where to go at every fork and turn and there were many rounds of flipping coins or rock, paper, scissors to make the decisions.

There were expansive lengths of yellow-grey rock with several naturally and artificially created holes that acted as foot and hand holds to facilitate climbing, the air was quiet and sweet smelling and reasonably warm caressing at their exposed faces and hands. Even in the winter that was firmly settled over the area, the vegetation was beautiful, with some evergreen trees lining pathways whilst others were bare, but reached smoothly and majestically into the pale blue sky above and occasional bursts of green grasses and pale flowers from crevices in the rocks.

"It's sublime." George whispered.

"Completely sublime." Hannah agreed.

"So, does this make up for yesterday?" Brittany asked softly, not wanting to disturb anything by even speaking too loudly.

George reached over and squeezed her free hand. "You didn't need to make up for yesterday, but yes, it does."

"Awesome." Brittany smiled.

"That, is the perfect word Britt." Hannah said, still facing the expansive, open view.

Brittany scrunched her face in confusion, head tilted to the side before turning to look at Santana, who simply shrugged in response. "What do you mean Han?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, well, awesome didn't come about to mean good or brilliant or anything else that we use it for today, it literally means to be in the presence of God, and I think, we can safely say, we are in the presence of God. Or at least something bigger than us, whatever you want to believe that is." Hannah explained, her voice still soft and she spread out her arms turning to fully face them. "Don't you think?"

Brittany pulled Santana to stand against her, resting her chin on Santana's shoulder. "Yeah. I do." Santana smiled and closed her eyes, leaning their cheeks together softly.

Standing in a quiet, beautiful park, miles away from the constricting and bigoted Lima, with her friends and girlfriend, she couldn't help but think. 'This is pretty fucking perfect.'

* * *

Brittany was trying to remain seated patiently on Santana's bed (still unmade and rumpled from the morning and night before) in a pale purple dress that loosely swept down to her knees and hung gracefully off her shoulders.

Once they had returned in the early afternoon, Santana had quickly grabbed a pile of what Brittany presumed where clothes, although she hadn't been given a chance to see them. She smiled sweetly and told Brittany to get changed into something nice and wait there.

That had been close to forty five minutes ago and Brittany had already finished reading her class chapters and notes, whilst leaving enough to entertain her on the train home, and was starting to fidget and become restless. She had just begun pacing when she heard a thump followed by Santana's muffled voice outside of the room.

"Shit. Fuck. Ow. That fucking hurt."

Brittany giggled and went to open the door, gasping slightly at what she saw. Santana was dressed in one of her usual tight dresses, this one a dark burgundy colour with slightly darker falling swirling patterns accentuating her chest and arse perfectly, but it was slightly longer down her thigh and sat slightly higher on her chest than usual, making her less obviously sexual but incredibly sensual, and Brittany thought she had never looked more beautiful.

At least not fully clothed.

"Wow." She breathed, alerting Santana to her presence. Santana looked up from the tray she was balancing along with a small bottle of wine tucked under her arm and two glasses gripped between her fingers. She had bumped into the wall, trapping two of her fingers between the wall and the stems of the glasses, in an attempt to stop the tray from overbalancing and Brittany quickly reached for the glasses, tugging at the bottle and pushing the door open with her foot. "You look so beautiful San. I like this dress."

Santana carefully closed and locked the door, pulling across the pale inner curtains so that some of the natural, afternoon sun could still filter through. "It's new, I bought it a few weeks ago, but I haven't had a chance to wear it. It's too tight to wear without you around as a human shield." She kissed Brittany in thanks and set the tray on her desk. "You really like it?" Santana tilted her head to the side, the corner of her lip tugged between her teeth nervously.

"Yeah. Not that I didn't appreciate your tiny dresses at school parties, but I like the slightly longer length, and that it covers your boobs more, but makes your cleavage better. It's also more awesome 'cos I know exactly what's underneath." Brittany grinned, running her hands lightly over Santana's chest and stilling on her hips.

"Thanks B. You look really pretty too. You always look so feminine and natural in pale colours."

Brittany pulled her down to kiss gently at the corner of Santana's mouth and then brushed their noses together. "Good to know. Now, what's all this you've brought me?"

Santana giggled before turning towards the tray, where two chicken salads, slightly messily presented, were. "Okay, so, I'm still a rubbish cook, so this seemed like the safest option, but I bought jelly and that horrible fake strawberry ice cream you like so much for pudding to make it up to you." They settled the tray between them and began eating, every so often catching the other's eye.

"You know, one day, we, or at least one of us, are going to _have _to learn to cook." Brittany said through a mouthful and a smile.

"Yeah, one day, but not yet."

* * *

The tray, with empty dishes piled haphazardly, was soon forgotten and under the desk on the floor. Santana was half straddling Brittany and half kneeling on the bed as she cupped both of Brittany's cheeks kissing her slowly.

Brittany's hands were pressing and massaging circles into Santana's thighs and her body was sporadically rippling at the feel of Santana's lips and tongue on her own. She suddenly pulled back, chest heaving, face flushed and her breath being forced out in loud pants.

"San," Brittany's voice was thick and heavy, and she scratched her nails down Santana's thighs before scratching back up again and sliding her fingers beneath the legs of the compression pants. "Can I, can you take these off?" She tugged again at the compression pants to emphasise her point and kissed Santana's lips once, forcefully.

Santana nodded breathlessly agreeing. "Yeah. Yeah." She reached for the zip of her dress, frowning in confusion when Brittany's warm fingers circled around her own, stopping her.

"No, just your compression pants; I want to feel you as we kiss, I want it to be slow, but I want to be able to feel you, all of you. Please?" Brittany's voice was slightly nervous. For everything they had done together, the number of firsts they had reached with one another, they had never done this. They had never kissed, when they were both dressed to impress the other and not simply in pyjamas or sweatpants, without the compression pants. They had only kissed without them when Santana was already naked, or was soon about to be.

Brittany noticed the hesitance and self consciousness in Santana's eyes and cupped her cheek softly, barely connecting their skin. "Everything about you is stunning. You are my gorgeous, sexy, amazing, loving, _feminine, girl_friend. Who I'm madly in love with." Santana's eyes were flickering between Brittany's own, wanting, needing, searching to find the truth behind what she was hearing. "I love you. All of you. I love everything about you." It sometimes surprised Brittany just how self conscious Santana still was about herself, but she would keep saying and showing Santana everything she meant for as long as it was needed.

Santana nodded once. "Okay." Her voice was soft and low and it caused another shiver to trip down Brittany's spine. "Can," Santana cleared her throat, holding slightly firmer onto Brittany's cheeks. "Will you take them off?"

Brittany smiled and nodded. "Close your eyes Beautiful." Santana hated direct eye contact, sometimes even with Brittany, who knew it would be one of those times. Santana's eyelids closed slowly and she couldn't stop the smile as Brittany kissed each one tenderly. Brittany's fingers moved quickly up Santana's skirt once again, forcing her fingers past the tight waist of the skirt and along Santana's abs, shaking slightly from nerves and arousal. Soon the dark constricting Lycra material was being tugged down Santana's calves and over the high heels she was still wearing.

As soon as they were puddled on the floor, Brittany swiftly pulled Santana to directly straddle her, and Santana's eyes snapped open, dark and swirling with belief and lust. As their hips settled, the building hardness that Brittany could now feel through the thin layers of dresses and underwear made her mouth pop open and a groan pull from her throat.

She kissed slowly along Santana's jaw, sucking at the junction where her jaw and skull joined. "You feel amazing Santana. So strong and beautiful and sexy." Santana whimpered and Brittany smiled in triumph as she began kissing down the path she had already traced. When instead of connecting with Santana's lips, Brittany gently traced her tongue down Santana's neck she jolted and bucked her hips, impossibly hardening rapidly.

"Britt, please, more, anything, more."

Brittany giggled softly as she kissed her way slowly down and along the exposed, smooth skin, scratching one hand along her thigh whilst the other trailed upwards to grip a still covered breast. When Brittany's hand finally connected and tightened firmly both of their hips bucked and Santana's hands moved to grip at Brittany's chest.

Brittany moved her mouth back to pull and suck and nip at Santana's lips and the air in the room heated, becoming sticky and heavy, their bodies moving perfectly together.

Suddenly the slow, gentle atmosphere wasn't enough, and Brittany was pulling at the zip of Santana's dress before pushing it up and over Santana's hips, forcing her to lie on her back on the bed.

Brittany continued kissing at every inch of newly exposed skin, sometimes stopping to suck and lick making Santana's hips to buck and her breath to catch and come out in strangled gasps and pants. It wasn't until the material was being dragged over Santana's head, that she realised that Brittany was still fully clothed. She gripped Brittany's arms tightly, smirking as she flipped them once more, knees pressed either side of Brittany's hips as Santana easily lifted the flowing material.

Seeing the dark blue lacy material, Santana's breath hitched and she momentarily forgot what she was doing, too caught in the sight in front of her. She licked her lips twice sub consciously and suddenly a little of the lust haze cleared and she continued lifting the material upwards.

When both dresses were puddled together on the floor, Santana laid her body completely on top of Brittany's, both gasping and pressing tightly at the contact of heated, slightly sweat sticky skin. Their kisses became sloppy and desperate as Brittany reached upwards to unclasp and pull off Santana's bra, letting it fall to the ground heedlessly.

Brittany pushed slightly at Santana's shoulders, the two moving to sit up, Santana straddling Brittany's hips and both panting heavily.

Brittany moved her fingers softly from where they were resting on Santana's shoulders to trace around the swell of Santana's now exposed breast, leaning down to occasionally press wet, open mouthed kisses against the skin.

"You are so beautiful. I love how you feel under my fingers," Another kiss, this time sucking a little making the skin darken at the sudden blood rush. "Under and in my mouth," One of Brittany's hands slid quickly down Santana's back to squeeze and pull at her arse making their hips jolt together. "Inside me." Brittany whispered.

Santana groaned loudly before pulling Brittany face back towards her own and roughly unclasping and pulling off the white bra, hands falling to grip and tease and pull. "I love you Brittany." Before Brittany could even register the words, she was being gently laid along the bed and Santana's fingers were stroking along the waist band of her underwear, eyes connected and pleading.

"I love you too." It was all the answer Santana needed as she pulled the panties slowly off and down Brittany's legs, her own boxers following soon after.

* * *

A/N: Bart (thanks for reviewing by the way!) let me know that the two universities I have are really close…which isn't what I thought from all the maps I could find and also not what I intended. Unfortunately, they didn't offer an alternative for Britt, so I had to go to my Google powers again, and hopefully the page I found that said Stanford (Brittany's new school where she is studying Philosophy) is a two hour train ride from Berkeley, is right. If it's not, please just go with it and just pretend like it's real Glee where they ignore continuity, normal real life timelines and forget about things as soon as they have bled them drama dry for the one episode (unless it's Finchel, in which case, it's bled dry for several episodes)…but yeah, I wanted them close but not so close that they could still see each other every day.

Yay! Less than a week between updates, just! Also, I have another story that I will be posting either later tonight or tomorrow evening, depending on when I finish checking it. It's an angst heavy one shot, so if that's your thing, look out for it ^.^

Reviews would be crazy appreciated ^.^


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry this took two weeks. A mixture of writer's block and only one review last chapter, made this really hard to write, let alone write well.

I hope you enjoy this next instalment. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, please? ^.^

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Early December: Santana's Dorm Room:**

The last few weeks of the semester flew by in a mixture of classes, visits from Brittany and ignoring any preparation for the return home by any means possible. It was now the last full week, and Santana, along with every other student was rushing around trying to find loaned out books, DVDs and CDs, dirty clothes to be taken home and washed and finishing last minute assignments to prevent as little work that needed to be done as much as possible over the holidays.

Right now, Santana's room was covered in several neat, squared piles; piles of textbooks that could stay, books that were going to go back with her, clothes to be left, random objects she had found in her room that she hadn't yet decided what to do with (like a small collection of rocks of which Santana had no idea where they came from and a shiny, plastic pink frog that would jump across the room if you pressed it's head hard enough and, somehow, Lord Tubbington's spare collar with a broken bell), and clothes that needed to be washed – and it was this last pile that George inadvertently disturbed all over the floor when she walked into the room.

Santana huffed from the other side of the room at the dull thud of the clothes hitting the floor, but didn't look up as George smiled apologetically before stooping and starting to rebuild the pile. "Sorry San, shall I put these clothes back onto the bed, teetering precariously as before, or shall I put them into the large bag that you've scrawled 'clothes' onto?"

Santana snorted, absentmindedly poking through the cardboard box rested on her knees where she was crouched on the floor, before she shrugged. "Um, bag is fine, thanks George." The room was quite for several seconds, before Santana registered what George had said, and her head snapped upwards, eyes wide, her heartbeat rapid and loud and hard. "Wait, George, its fine just, um, just leave them where they are and I'll do it later." She tried to keep her voice calm, head moving side to side to find somewhere to put the box so she could make sure George walked away from the pile of clothes.

"Hey its fine I don't mind. Gotta do something with them in order to get into your room anyway." George joked, still placing the clothes into the bag, unaware of Santana's unease.

"No! Really!" Santana could see what was soon to be in George's hands and she hastily pushed the box onto the floor, uncaring where it fell, but only managed one step before George's body stilled and her eyes moved to meet Santana's in confusion.

"Are," George looked down between her hands and Santana a few times before clearing her throat and closing the door softly behind her. "Are these what I think they are San?" Santana still couldn't speak, her muscles trembling in shock and her mind whirring rapidly to find a legitimate reason.

George considered putting them back and pretending that she had never seen them, but decided to forge ahead. "Santana? Are these compression pants?" George's voice was soft, gentle, and she sat as still as possible on the edge of Santana's bed, as if to prevent scaring Santana.

Santana cleared her throat and scratched uncomfortably at her palm, before clearing her throat again and nodding once, unable to speak. The room fell silent for several minutes, and George dropped her gaze, nervously pulling at the pants in her fingers, flickering between hurt and surprised and curious.

"I'm not, like you though." Santana's voice was small and she resolutely stared at a space on the wall next to George's head. "I'm a girl, genetically, my boobs are real, if properly shaped by surgery, and I hate to take extra oestrogen and progesterone shots for a few years during puberty, but I have," It didn't matter how long Santana had lived with her body or how many times she had been assured that she was beautiful and wanted and sexy, saying it out loud, was still the hardest few words she ever had to say, words she avoided at all costs. "I have a penis." George still didn't look up from the compressions pants in her hands, and the silence was pricking at Santana painfully. "I suppose, you could say I'm inter-sexed." Santana chanced another glance at George, head still bent. She felt a need to fill the silence tickling in her throat. "Although, I don't really like to label it. Me. My condition." Santana looked desperately, pleadingly at the top of George's head. "George, say something, please?"

At Santana's question, George's head snapped up, anger and tears crackling in the air around her and across her face, as she finally looked into Santana's eyes. "Say something? _Say _something? Okay, how about this. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you lie to me?"

Santana reeled back in shock. From all her friends, she had never thought that George would be _angry_, she thought George would be the most understanding, maybe a little put out that she hadn't told her earlier. But George was the most placid and placating and sweet and understanding and as adverse to confrontation as Brittany. She never thought she would be shouting at her. Shouting in anger.

"I…I didn't lie to you." It was the only thing Santana could think to say, body shrinking into itself feebly and fingers pulled in anxiety.

George stood up, suddenly her height advantage (of only a few inches, maybe one more than Brittany had over her) became powerful and intimidating. "Yes you fucking did! You never told me –"

"That's not lying!"

"It's a lie by omission Santana, and even if it wasn't, you told me you got a boob job because you wanted bigger tits, not because they didn't actually look like tits! When I was talking to you about hormone treatments and how much it sucked that I didn't know anyone else that was going through it that I felt comfortable talking to, and you said _nothing_."

Santana's breath caught in her throat and she felt hot tears beginning to spill. She averted her gaze, the anger and hurt rolling from George in waves making her physically ache, and any counter argument she had died before it hit the air, already knowing how false and empty it would sound, not matter how genuine it was meant to be.

"How do you think that makes me feel? We may not be exactly the same, as you so bluntly made clear, but I would have understood. We could have talked! Why didn't you tell me? Why did you sit there any _lie _to me? Lie right to my face Santana!" Santana still couldn't think of anything to say, desperately, ridiculously, wishing that Brittany was there to help calm George down, to her to understand.

"I didn't lie to you." She said pathetically. George growled in frustration before throwing the compression pants into the bag and gripping the door handle so tightly, her knuckles turned white.

"Yes, you did Santana. I can't be here right now. Have a nice trip home."

Santana could hear George's footsteps in the corridor, before Santana jolted forwards towards her door and found her voice. "George! Wait! Please, don't tell anyone. Please."

George swivelled in the corridor, her few footsteps heavy to reach the doorway. "You really think that little of me?" She sounded so insulted, but the angry force behind it caused Santana to crumple onto the floor and draw her knees up under her chin. "See you around Santana." George sighed.

* * *

Once Santana had managed to stop crying, she reached across the room, pulling out her mobile and calling Brittany, rubbing at her itching, red eyes.

She was more than a little surprised when it kept ringing and she was soon greeted by Brittany's voicemail message. Santana pulled the phone from her ear, frowning at the screen as if it would suddenly make the call connect and Brittany to pick up.

She redialled, only for it to continue ringing and go to voicemail again. One more call, followed by subsequent calls being directed instantly to voicemail, and Santana couldn't help but feel that she was being ignored.

She sighed, trying to find the energy to be angry, but instead hurt rumbled through her, and her face crumpled as she started crying again, curling her body tightly.

Brittany didn't call her back, and Santana fell asleep on the floor, surrounded by piles of…stuff.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: December 14****th****2012:**

They had planned to get on the plane together, but when Brittany still hadn't picked up her phone or called Santana back after two days, Santana text her, saying that she didn't want to meet Brittany and that she was getting a different flight.

It took almost another day before Brittany tried to call her back, followed by several confused (and rapidly upset) texts.

Calls that Santana ignored and texts that she deleted, still hurt and confused at George's reaction and angry and heartbroken by how ignored she felt by Brittany. Everything was bubbling just below the surface and Santana didn't have the energy to decipher them.

She just wanted to be alone.

With Brittany.

She was now sat on her bed, trying to ignore the gentle tick of her clock, counting away the seconds until Brittany landed back in Lima. She was prodding intermittently with her foot at the stuffed unicorn toy, Ellen, that Brittany got for her last Christmas that she had thrown off the bed in frustration and staring at a facedown frame (pushed over as soon as she had walked back into her room and her eyes were caught by those smiling blue ones) whose picture of herself and Brittany she could still see behind her eyelids and in her brain.

She didn't know what to do.

About Brittany or George.

The last argument she had had with her best friend, resulted in a broken heart, months of sulking, angry forgotten girl punk bands, Alanis Morissette, K D Lang and so much scheming (none of which was ultimately successful) that even she began to forget the point of it all, all the while having to watch the love of her life be settled and cute with someone else.

And she had had nothing to do with the reconciliation and resolution, other than finally listening to Brittany and not walking away.

Santana had gone as far as bringing up George's number almost a dozen times since she got home, and had written and rejected multiple scripts of what to say, ranging from a full out grovelling apology to an angry rant about it being her body and having fuck all to do with George.

But before she could press the green 'call' button, she would feel nauseous and throw the phone, and latest script, onto her bed in frustration. There was also a part of her, who thought that George should be the one to call her, not the other way around.

What to do about Brittany was even harder. There was so much more at stake.

Her relationship with Brittany was the first one she had had, that didn't revolve around convenience and reputation, the first one where she was completely emotionally invested, the first one where she could see so much further than the next popular party.

But Brittany had been ignoring her.

She really didn't know what to do.

The longer she thought over the last week, the more she was sure that she over reacted to the lack of contact from Brittany; but she didn't know how to rectify it, and Brittany's silence still hurt.

Her eyes flickered to the clock on her bedside table. Brittany wouldn't be in Lima for another hour and a half. She huffed, before flopping back onto her bed in frustration and exhaustion.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: December 15****th ****2012: **

It was a really strange sensation to wake up, surrounded by her heavy duvet and slightly scratchy blanket and the slightly musty smell of a now mostly unused room, and it took Santana several seconds before the black walls and the large double bed registered.

Brittany would have been home for several hours now, and Santana reached to grab her mobile, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before she pushed her glasses up her nose and focused on the screen. There was a small yellow envelope and a voicemail, and Santana nestled further into her bed, searching for a sense of security, before bringing the phone to her ear and hearing the harsh, automated voice followed by Brittany's soft, tear thickened one.

"_Hey Sanny. I, um, I don't really know what to say, because, I, um, don't really know what I've done. But whatever it was, I'm sorry. I'm back in Lima now, and I'm assuming you are too, so, um, can we get together tomorrow? Please? I love you. Okay. Bye." _

Half way through the message, Santana had scrambled for Ellen, and by the end it was held closely to her chest, soaking up her tears. She listened to it three more times, her heart aching more each time, before she opened the text message that was also from Brittany.

'_Sleep well. I love you.' _

Santana took a deep sniff, before quickly dialling Brittany's number (memorised, as was every other number Brittany had ever had) and unconsciously crossing her fingers that Brittany would pick up.

"Hello?" Brittany's voice was small and heavy with sleep, and Santana couldn't help the slightly strangled giggle that she released into the air. But suddenly speaking to Brittany was the hardest thing possible. "Hello?" Santana opened her mouth, but she couldn't work her voice. "San? Is that you?" Santana heard the shuffling of sheets, and Brittany clearing her throat repeatedly, like she did every morning she was woken.

"Yeah, B, it's me."

"I'm really pleased you called Santana. I'm really sorry for whatever it is I've done." She sounded so unsure about herself and what she was saying, and Santana gripped tighter to Ellen.

"Why don't you come over and we can talk? My parents won't be home, so we'll be by ourselves. Is that okay?" There was a lull in the conversation, and Santana's heart was suddenly pounding in fear and apprehension so hard and so strong that she was sure her whole body was pulsing with it and her mouth moved open, ready to instantly take the offer back.

"Yeah," Brittany eventually breathed out. "I'll be over in about an hour? That sound okay?"

Santana smiled in relief and nodded emphatically before she realised that Brittany couldn't see her. "Yes! Yeah, please."

* * *

Santana was sat on the bottom stair, her hands tucked under her feet, chin resting on her knees and staring at her front door. She was concentrating on keeping her breathing even and trying to ignore the taunting tick of the living room clock and the face of the hallway clock.

As soon as the doorbell sounded, sharp, peeling, insistent, her head snapped forwards and upwards, and she jerked to her feet, pulling and smoothing at her shirt and cords as if it mattered.

She walked as slowly as she could manage, trying to not appear over-eager and pathetic, and pulled at the cool, metal door handle. Before the door was even half way opened, Santana was surrounded by Brittany, her long arms gripping to her neck and shoulders and apologies being whispered into her hair and brushing along her forehead, their bodies flush connecting like always.

Santana froze for a moment before sinking into Brittany's body and taking deep, needy gulps of her scent, nuzzling as close to Brittany as possible. It wasn't until Santana shivered, from the strong wind swirling into the hallway, that Brittany pulled back, closing the door, and rubbing at the corners of her eyes, rose red and puffy.

Now that they had stepped apart, Santana's unease rushed through her, and she was unable to think of anything to say. By Brittany's silence and the shuffling from foot to foot, she didn't know how to begin the conversation either.

Santana walked backwards, trying to buy time and clear her head of Brittany, before sitting back down onto the bottom stair. "Why did you ignore me?" She blurted, her eyes instantly widening in surprise, although no more words followed.

Brittany scrunched her nose in confusion, and she walked slowly towards the stairs before sitting down, with her back to the wall, at a ninety degree angle from Santana. "I don't know what you mean?"

Santana rolled her eyes before she could stop the action, and frowned, anger seeping into her voice. "I called you. I had a really shit day Tuesday, and I called you, like loads. At first it just kept ringing and then it was _diverted _straight to voicemail. Why?"

"Tuesday?" Brittany asked quietly, her eyebrows tightening in thought. "Oh, I was really drunk on Tuesday. We were having a Christmas party on the floor, I couldn't really figure out who it was calling, so I just kept diverting them. I may have also deleted my call log. I'm not really sure."

Santana opened her mouth, speechless, and she angrily pulled her fingers through her hair. "I called you like, a ridiculous number of times, over the next couple of days, but you never picked up." She had wanted to sound angry, but her voice cracked and she just sounded pathetic, hurt.

Brittany shrugged. "I'm sorry San, we had a day long packing and goodbye party on Wednesday and Thursday was the Hanukkah party, and I wasn't really paying attention to my phone, I so much packing to do and somehow most of my stuff ended up all over the dorms. My roommate says that I'm too generous." She smiled, hoping that Santana would return the gesture, sighing when she didn't. "I wasn't ignoring you, I just, didn't know you rang." Brittany tried to catch Santana's eyes unsuccessfully, so she pulled nervously at the drawstring of her sweatpants. "Then, when I read your text saying you didn't want to get the same flight any more, I tried to call you and text you, but you didn't answer me."

"Yeah, I was pissed at you."

"So I figured that I'd done something wrong."

"Yeah, you fucking ignored me Brittany! For days. When I needed to talk to you!" Santana hadn't meant to revert to shouting, but the nonchalance in Brittany's voice and her seeming ignorance about how much it had hurt Santana, annoyed her. Brittany shrunk back against the wall, pulling her legs away from Santana and into her chest.

"I'm really sorry San." Brittany didn't know what else to say or what to do. She had honestly not realised that her few days of being busy, which she had assumed Santana was also experiencing as they had both left packing to the last possible moments meaning she hadn't called Santana back, had been such a problem.

The hallway fell into silence, thick and cloying, Brittany desperately trying to meet Santana's eyes, whilst Santana stubbornly avoided her, body tucked tight and still and her mind blank of what to do or how to fix it.

Brittany had never been able to sit silent and still, especially when she could see that Santana was hurting, and hesitantly cleared her throat, fingers once again fiddling at her sweatpants drawstring. She saw Santana flinch slightly, and sighed. "Are we, do you not want to be with me anymore?"

It was hardly a whisper, but Brittany might as well have shouted them for the force they had when Santana heard the words. Santana tucked her head tighter onto her knees, eyes squeezed tight against the tears that threatened, causing Brittany's heart to clench in fear and her stomach to twist hugely and painfully. "Is that what you want?" Santana asked.

"No!" Brittany stuttered forwards to grip at Santana's upper arm, pulling slightly to try and get her to uncurl so she could reach her face. For all of Santana's resistance, Brittany had always been stronger, and soon her arm was limp at her side while Brittany's long, soft fingers were pulling at her chin forcing their eyes to meet. "No Santana. I honestly, honestly, didn't ignore you intentionally or to make you feel bad." Brittany's fingers were stroking along Santana's arm and tightly holding her chin. At the first warm, wet drip of tears onto them, Brittany move to grip Santana's cheeks between her hands firmly.

"I love you Santana. I want to be with you, and I'm so sorry I made you feel anything different."

Santana's anger had been dissipating, her hurt lessening and being reasoned and her defensive wall had been slowly crumbling as soon as she had seen Brittany, but at those words, all of it was forgotten, and Santana pulled Brittany tightly against her, words tumbling over themselves in their desperation to get out. "I'm sorry I over reacted. I'm sorry. I just, I had such a fucking horrible day, and I think I fucked up so badly with George, and I just, I needed to speak to you, and I couldn't and I just, I over reacted. I'm sorry." Santana tugged insistently at Brittany's face and crashed their lips together, wet, messy, bruisingly strong. "I love you. I love you."

* * *

They didn't separate at the bottom of the stairs until the sound of the paper slapping against the front door caused them both to jolt in surprise, followed by soft giggles and chaste kisses at their absorption with each other. They carefully detangled, Santana pulling Brittany up the stairs behind her, never loosening the grip of her hand, then falling onto her bed and curling around Brittany whose arm automatically gripped around Santana's back.

"What happened with George?"

"Hmm? Oh, George came into to see me and I was at the make-shit-loads-of-piles stage of my packing procedure," Brittany smiled softly, painfully familiar with Santana's packing and organising habits. "And, when she opened the door, she knocked over my pile of dirty washing. I wasn't really paying attention, I was looking through that cardboard box of knick-knacks we found that I hadn't looked at since we found it, and when she offered to put everything into the bag for me, I agreed. Then I like, I dunno, realised what she was doing, and I tried to get her to just leave it, but I was on the other side of the room, and she grabbed a pair of my compression pants before I could stop her."

Brittany frowned a little in confusion. "So? Couldn't you have just said that they were, I dunno, special Lycra sports pants or something. That's what we told Quinn when she saw them at cheer camp that one time."

Santana tensed slightly and fell silent. She was used to being around people that knew that George was born, and still was, physically male, and now she didn't know if she should say anything.

But at the same time, she couldn't think of anything else that would have upset her so badly. And it's not like Brittany would judge or think differently of George, she after all had been sleeping with Santana for years.

Brittany gripped tighter and kissed at the top of Santana's head to try and encourage her to continue. "San?"

Santana sat up slightly so she could look into Brittany's eyes and brushed their noses together slowly. "What I'm about to say, you can't tell anyone else." Brittany cocked her head as much as she could and nodded. "I'm serious, the only people who know what I'm about to say are George, Hannah, Alice and George's parents. You can't tell anyone else this." Brittany nodded again. "George is physically male –"

"Like you? So she knew what the compression pants were for."

"No, no, not like me. I…she was born and raised as a boy, I was born with both male and female cells. Inside she is a woman and she identifies as a woman, but she hasn't physically transitioned."

"So George is transgendered. A transsexual. I never know when to use which label."

Santana smiled a little. "Me either. I never asked George, she's just…"

"George." Brittany supplied. Santana smiled bigger and nodded.

"Yeah. Anyway, when George saw the compression pants, I went on the defensive, as usual, and basically made her feel like I thought she was some kind of freak or something."

"The first thing you said was that you weren't like her didn't you?" Brittany brushed along the small of Santana's back, who nodded in agreement. "It's what you did when the first rumours about us being together and you being gay started. You made sure that everyone knew you weren't like Kurt or like Rachel's family and just flat out denied everything."

"Yeah, well, when I told George about me, she got so angry. Just _so angry_. That I had lied, that she felt like I didn't trust her, that she had told me such a large and painful part of her life and I hadn't reciprocated.

"And then when she stormed out, I begged her not to tell anyone, and she looked at me, disappointed, like she had never seen me properly before. She was just so _angry_. I never thought that George of all people would be _angry_ at me." Santana's face scrunched and she pressed tightly into the crease where Brittany's neck and shoulders meet, crying quietly.

"Oh San. I'm sorry. I'm sure that she was just over whelmed with everything. You're quite unique, and she probably was a little hurt, maybe she felt like you hadn't told her anything because you didn't trust her, but once she's thought about everything, I'm sure she won't be so angry." Brittany pressed another kiss to Santana's head, then opened and closed her mouth several times in an attempt to ask her next question, but could only think of the most blunt way. So she waited until Santana's shoulders had stopped shaking and her cries had silenced and took a deep breath. "San, why _didn't _you tell George? I know it's not exactly the same, but she wouldn't judge you or anything. So why didn't you tell George?"

She felt Santana shrug then press a kiss to Brittany's collar bone. "I don't know really. I suppose it's just habit, habit to protect myself, and you, from bigoted idiots and habit of hiding myself." She felt Brittany nod in understanding. "Plus, how would I bring it up? Hey, you have a dick, me too, only I've also got tits."

Brittany giggled. "Yeah, that's probably not the best way. How did George tell you?"

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Mid October 2012:**

Santana's Gender and Sexuality Studies class had just finished, and with nowhere in particular to go, she was taking her time packing everything away, completely in her head and unaware of George smiling softly, stood in front of her.

When she lifted her head to walk out, she jumped at the sight of George, grasping at her chest and blowing air out forcefully. "Jeez, you gave me a fright!"

"I seem to have that effect on women a lot."

Santana snorted before letting her eyes flicker quickly over George. "Nah, you're cute enough."

George blushed softly, and cleared her throat, slightly uncomfortable. "Um, thanks, I think. I was wondering if you wanted to get a coffee or something? I've got almost an hour until my next class."

Santana nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like heaven. I didn't manage to get any this morning."

* * *

They were sat in a quiet, subtly lit corner of one of the many campus coffee shops, and had fallen naturally into a discussion of the day's lesson.

"Santana, can I ask you something?" George sounded nervous, and her eyes would occasionally flicker around the busy café, which was humming with conversations and the cluttering of china. Santana smiled in what she hoped was reassurance, (she was still getting used to being able to relax and be friendly around anyone other than Brittany) leaning slightly closer at George's lowered voice.

"You know we had that discussion about people that identify as transgendered at the beginning of the semester?" Santana's eyebrows knitted quickly in confusion, before her forehead soothed back and she nodded to show she both remembered and was still listening. "And that girl, Claudia, said that she didn't understand it, that she just thought transgendered people just took stereotypes of gender too far? That society structured gender too much, that when people don't fit those parameters, they label themselves as transgendered?" Santana scrunched her nose, she remembered Claudia's opinion clearly, because it had made her feel like even more of a freak, especially as it had happened so early in the term and she was struggling with being away from Brittany and the familiar. "What did you think?"

"That it was bullshit." George raised her eyebrows in question, asking Santana to expand. "I think that someone can feel like one gender or the other, or neither, and it has nothing to do with being confused or a lack of fluidity in society's definitions. Although, I do think that society is too structured and to concerned with labelling everything, but I don't think that has anything to do with not feeling like the gender you physically are, and I certainly don't think that transgendered people are any more confused than a lesbian just hasn't found the right man yet. I also think that sometimes people are too worried about putting a name or a label to a feeling." They fell into silence as George studied Santana's face carefully, and Santana shifted slightly uncomfortably under the gaze.

Finally George nodded, shallowly, before taking a sip of coffee. "Can I ask you something else?" Santana nodded again, trying to figure out where the conversation was headed. "Do you know any transgendered people?"

Santana shrugged. "Not that I know of." Then she smiled and sipped at her coffee. "Not that I would necessarily know either."

George nodded and smiled at that too. "Do you want to?"

Santana shrugged. "I wouldn't want to meet someone _because _they were transgendered, but I wouldn't not want to meet someone just because they were transgendered either. If we, like, shared common interests, or they enjoyed arguing with me about something we didn't agree on, then yeah. I don't really mind what you have between your legs unless I'm planning on sleeping with you; if I get on with and like someone, then I get on with them and like them." George smiled brightly and lowered her gaze. "What's wrong George? Why all the questions?" Santana reached out and quickly squeezed George's knee in what she hoped was kindness (she really did need to get better at all this nice body language shit).

George took a deep breath before looking back up to meet Santana's eyes. "George isn't short for Georgia or Georgina." She paused, waiting for the information to register with Santana.

"Okay?" Santana frowned a little in confusion.

George scratched nervously at her ear before clearing her throat and looking nervously around the café a few times. "What I mean, is that, I was born a boy. I still am, physically. But I'm not a boy. I've never really felt like one, but it wasn't until the last few years that I've felt strong and comfortable enough to let people see that I'm not a boy." Santana's mouth popped into a small o and her eyes momentarily widened in surprise, unable to think of anything to say, causing George to panic. "Shit. I just, I wanted to tell you. Santana? I'm not a different person I'm –"

Santana cut her off by throwing her arms around George's neck, clinging tightly. "I don't think you are. It's okay George. I was just a little surprised. I never would have guessed you weren't physically female. Never." She felt George sag in relief in her arms, and squeeze gently in thanks.

"I've had a few years to practise looking how I feel." George's blush deepened, and she held Santana's gaze, pleading and fear flickering across her face. "Could you keep this to yourself please? I mean, I don't have any problem with myself, I got over that, but so many people don't understand. And, it's private."

Santana squeezed George's knee once more. "Oh yeah, of course. I completely understand. I won't tell anyone, promise." George smiled in thanks and her body relaxed back into the chair. "Now, let me get another coffee, and we can get back to trying to predict the next idiotic thing that Claudia will say without thinking first, and thoroughly ignoring any counter arguments." George laughed softly, before lifting her cup for a refill too.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: December 15****th****:**

"You could have told her then." Brittany said softly.

"I didn't know how to Britt. I mean, stealing her thunder much? And she was just so self assured and confident about herself, even if she was worried about what I was going to think; it was intimidating as fuck."

Brittany wanted to push, wanted to keep asking until she got a full answer from Santana, but she knew that would never work with Santana, she would just clam up tighter and tighter, or worse get angry and lash out.

Brittany sighed and pulled Santana closer to her whispering into her hair. "I understand."

* * *

They had being lying on Santana's bed, content and tightly tangled, occasionally sharing lasting, languid kisses, until Brittany jolted upwards when she heard the hallway clock sound out two o'clock.

"Shit." She muttered, pulling at her shirt, and neatening her hair quickly. "I'm sorry San, I have to go. You know what Christmas is like at my house." She smiled apologetically, whining at Santana's exaggerated pout. "Noo! Don't pout at me like that! I don't want to go, and I'm so, so pleased that you don't want to break up with me, because that would be the worst Christmas present ever, but my mum would kill me if I don't get home on time. My little sister and millions of cousins that always seem to appear during the holidays will be driving her up the wall, and I've got to help." Santana sighed, dropping her head slightly.

"Yeah, I know B." She pulled Brittany's closest hand towards her lips softly, smirking at Brittany's slightly dazed, genuine grin. "I'll get to see you tomorrow though right?"

Brittany bit her lip hesitantly and dropped her gaze. "Um, I don't know. Everyone kind of invited themselves early rather than just some of them inviting themselves early for some reason, and there are more children than ever this year, so mum really needs me. And I figured that you would be having your normal big family celebrations and church and stuff, so it wouldn't be a big issue."

Santana nodded in agreement. "Yeah, sure of course Britt-Britt. But we still have to meet to exchange presents." Brittany nodded happily. "I'll walk you to the door." She smiled to let Brittany know she wasn't angry at her, but they both knew that the smile didn't reach her eyes.

They kissed softly in the doorway, neither wanting to be the first to pull away, to stop kissing, to disconnect.

Eventually, begrudgingly Brittany stepped back, taking both of Santana's hands in her own, brushing her thumbs over Santana's knuckles and applying pressure.

"I love you San. You know that right. I love you so much." Brittany's eyes were pleading, worried, unsure.

"Yes! I love you too Britt, so much it fucking scares me sometimes. I love you. And I know that your family is crazy serious about Christmas." Her smile this time reached her eyes and Brittany brushed their noses together once more before walking down the path to her car, only releasing the grip on Santana's fingers when she was forced to.

"I'll text you as much as possible!" She called over her shoulder and waved cutely.

* * *

Once the door closed behind Santana, her mind wandered back to their conversation.

_And I figured that you would be having your normal big family celebrations and church and stuff_

Brittany's voice was light and caring in her head.

It hadn't been until Brittany mentioned the usual Lopez family Christmas traditions, that Santana remembered another conversation.

One she deliberately hadn't thought about for several months.

_I love girls, the way I'm supposed to feel about boys_

_Every day just feels like a war_

_But I don't want to fight any more_

_I just have to be me_

_Everybody has secrets Santana_

_I don't ever want to see you again_

_You have made your choice. Now I have made mine._

Every year, as many members of Santana's family as possible would arrive in dribs and drabs from the beginning of Advent right up until Christmas Eve. They would all cram around the dining room table to eat together each night, afterwards, holding at least two nights a week of prayers by candlelight where everyone would sit quietly in one room and be able to meditate and pray for whatever they felt was most important to them or their family or their lives.

As much as Santana would huff and roll her eyes at it, she loved the silence and would often have her own moments of prayer in the evening even if no one else was.

She loved being able to think about whatever she wanted to, spending as much or as little time on it as she wanted, without having to worry about telling people what she was thinking about. You never asked about what someone else prayer for or thought about unless they volunteered it. And she loved that.

It was so incredibly freeing, and for all of the constraints that she sometimes felt from being Catholic, being able to have someone to pray to and work things through with, made her feel safe and protected.

She liked, no _loved_, being Catholic.

But this year would be different.

Her Abuela had been true to her word, and hadn't spoken to Santana since she found out, (she had also overheard a conversation between her parents she obviously wasn't meant to hear, that ended in her mother in tears and her father hurt deciding that they weren't going to apologise for Santana, and that it was up to her Abuela to talk to them first, not the other way around – Santana had felt so incredibly loved in that moment) and Santana was fairly sure that at least some of her more elderly family members would more than agree with Abuela's opinion, possibly affected the opinions of many of her other family members.

Already, the difference was obvious.

It was half way through December, and no one had come to stay, her parents had left a note to say they would be working late most of the week (something that they avoided at all costs during Advent), and only three candles (for herself, her father and her mother) were stood on the small, scratched, dark word table next to the delicate, incomplete, Nativity set that was pulled out each December 1st without fail, and wouldn't be fully completed until January 6th with the Three Wise Men finally arriving to the Bethlehem barn.

She hadn't been left a note with the time and date of the next service that they would be going to, and although Santana was sure that they would go to at least for their usual Sunday and Midnight Christmas Mass, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.

She loved walking into her church, especially at Christmas when there would be subtle sparkles hanging from every possible surface and cinnamon spiking the air and tall, luxurious vanilla candles framing the altar.

The wide arches soaring up becoming the smooth swells of the curved ceiling, strong, wide, plain pillars providing a feeling of strength to the building, the long, dark, shiny pews that always smelt of old books, beeswax polish and faint, slightly stale perfumes and colognes.

She loved running her fingers over the scratchy woollen knee rests that lined the sides of the church for when they were needed, a mixture of six or seven different patterns adorning one side (doves, fishes, crosses, books) that as a child Santana had always wanted to organise so that there was an ordered pattern.

She would always spend as long as possible looking at the Nativity set; every year there would be new sheep or cows or Gabriel's wings or wise men's' gowns made by the children in the church and she would whisper a quite thanks before running her finger along the outside of the wooden barn.

She would always walk as far behind the rest of her family as possible at the end of the mass so that she would be alone when she reached the stack of candle holders, those already lit flickering gently in the dim light through the coloured glass windows. She would place whatever coin she had on her through the small metal slot, before picking up one of the short, thin, white waxy candles, pulling her fingers along the length a couple of times and tugging the wick straight. She would mutter a quiet Our Father for her Abuelo, who had died before she was born, repeating the processes and lighting another candle with another Our Father and thanks for the rest of her family. She would silently watch the gentle flickering of the yellow and orange, feeling a wash of peacefulness and for several minutes letting her mind go blissfully blank.

She loved it.

This year, everything would be different.

Everything.

* * *

A/N: So, all of the religious experiences, are my own, so if there are no churches like that in Lima, just go with it, please!

This is unbelted and I'm ill, so if there are any mistakes please let me know! Also, I know disgracefully little about transgendered people, so if I have made any errors, please, please let me know and I will correct them. I did as much research as I could, but after a while, all of the information begins to contradict themselves, and the sources become less and less reliable, so I hope I haven't offended anyone. If I have, I am really sorry, and please let me know!

Review, please?


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry this took so long; it wasn't meant to be, but I had my best friend's wedding, recording sessions and, well, the Olympics - which is also why it's shorter than normal (although, some may prefer that?). I've only read this through once, and I was watching the basketball and then the badminton at the time, so any mistakes please let me know, and I'm sorry!

Review please? Pretty please?

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: December 16****th**** 2012: Brittany's Room:**

Brittany flopped face down onto the bed. She'd been chasing children and cleaning up after then and helping her mum and aunts with baking (whilst the male members of her family got to sit and watch TV or play touch football in one of the many unused fields around her house) all day, and she was exhausted.

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about Santana either. The fact that half of her smiles didn't reach her eyes and the hurt Brittany could see in her body language nudged at her, pricking at her guilt, like a fly skittering across skin on a hot day.

But she hadn't meant to ignore Santana, she didn't even realise that she _had _ignored her; she had been so busy with trying to find everything to take home (especially as she would often find something, be pulled in and distracted by a conversation only to find that she had put down something else which she then had to find) and saying goodbye to everyone and avoiding calls from her mum (she would call to remind Brittany to pack something, which only caused to make her forget the current thing she was doing and slow down the packing process) and dealing with hangovers.

She sighed before pushing her hair away from her face and dialling Santana's number.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: December 17****th**** 2012:**

The kitchen was humming with the smell of cinnamon and ginger and burning sugar with a gentle buzz of the oven, and Brittany approached Annie Pierce, who was leant against the sink sipping from a glass of wine and looking through the window out onto the garden, where the majority of the younger members of the family were playing.

"Mum?"

Annie jumped slightly in surprise, smiling widely upon seeing Brittany and pulling her to her side, arms squeezing at her waist in a hug. "Hey sweetie, it's so nice to have you home."

"It's nice to be home too." Brittany said returning the hug. "Um, mum? I was wondering if I could –"

She was cut off by the jarring bell of the timer, and Annie pulled away to pull out the trays of freshly baked cookies and pastries. Once they were set on the top of the oven and Annie had set out the cooling racks, Brittany tried again.

"Mum, I was wondering if –"

Brittany was once again cut off by her little sister, Ashley, rushing into the kitchen – a trail of muddy footprints following her – and pulling at Annie's skirt.

"Mum! Mum!" She kept pulling until Annie was forced to put down the spatula and give the little girl her full attention.

"Bobby won't let me play with him, even though it's _my _play set and it's _my _garden! Mum! Tell him he _has _to let me play."

"Ash, I've got to finish putting these onto the cooling rack, otherwise they're going to spoil and we won't have any treats for after dinner." Annie was trying to sound understanding, but Brittany could hear the fatigue and the frustration biting through.

"I'll sort it out mum. Come on Ash." Brittany sighed, sticking out her arm and pulling Ashley outside. It took almost half an hour for Brittany to persuade Bobby, one of her most precocious and stubborn cousins, to let Ashley play with the others, and when Brittany returned to the kitchen, Annie was on her knees scrubbing at Ashley's muddy footprints.

Brittany carefully wiped off her shoes on the mat (normally she forgot completely) before sliding them off and placing them out of the way beside the door. She waited until Annie was stood again, this time pulling out food from the fridge and uncovering the meet that had been cooling before speaking again.

"I was wondering, I kind of hurt Santana's feelings –"

"Annie!" Tom Pierce's voice rang through the house as the front door slammed closed and Brittany could see her dad and several of her uncles and older male cousins filing into the hallway behind him, making their way to the lounge and the TV. "Annie!"

"We're in the kitchen dad." Soon Brittany was engulfed in a tight hug by her dad's arms before he moved around both her and Annie to reach the cooler, checking to see if there was beer inside.

"Annie," He sighed. "Where is all the beer I asked you to put in the cooler?"

Annie frowned slightly before her face cleared apologetically. "Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot, they're still in the garage. I can go and get it, but it won't be very cold."

"Annie! I asked you to do one thing!" Tom sighed again before kissing Annie on the forehead. "Never mind, I'll go and get them, they shouldn't be too warm at least."

Tom hadn't even reached the backdoor to walk to the garage, before one of Brittany's uncles strode into the kitchen looking for food, followed by several cousins (both from the living room and the garden, bringing in with them trails of mud where Annie had just cleaned) asking when the food would be ready. Annie swatted at grabbing fingers and shooed away children from under her feet and soon the kitchen was filled with all of Brittany's aunts instead, pulling out knives and chopping boards and pans. Brittany sighed and took the stack of bowls and cutlery pushed into her hands to go and set the table.

There was no way she was going to get a chance to ask about seeing Santana now.

She'd try again tomorrow.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: 17****th****-22****nd**** December 2012: Santana's house:**

It was the quietest and most isolated build up to Christmas Santana had ever experienced.

Her parents were working as much as possible, leaving either money or small plastic boxes of food to be heated, often with short, sweet notes from whichever parent left last. Promises to spend time together soon or to be home earlier or leave later. Promises Santana was old enough to know not to hold them to.

She spent most of her time reading books (both fiction and course books) and replying to Brittany's sporadic, rushed texts (that still made her heart beat faster and her stomach flip and her mouth pull into a smile) or occasional tired calls and going for runs.

It wasn't until a few days before Christmas that the calm, warm silence was broken in the house, and Santana heard Sofia's voice bouncing around the living room.

"Santana? Santi? Are you here? Even you can't possibly be asleep still." Her voice was hesitant, and overly kind, instantly making Santana's stomach clench in worry and sweat to prickle around her hairline and in the palms of her hands.

She padded out of her room and walked half way down the stairs, until she could see into the living room where her mother stood, flopping down to sit on the stair, gripping at the balustrade and leaning her forehead on the backs of her hands. "I'm here mami, I was reading."

Sofia smiled softly at her daughter, before sighing and walking towards the stairs. She fitted her hand over Santana's in attempted comfort. "We need to talk. You know your Abuela is still being stubborn and refusing to admit that there is nothing wrong with you, or your life, or your relationship with Brittany." It wasn't a question, but Santana swallowed heavily and nodded once. "Well, it means that we can't have our usual family Christmas celebrations, and there are annoyingly few family members that are willing to let her know that they disagree with her opinion, so the majority of the family will still be going to her house for Christmas, and some are already there. But it'll just be myself, papi and you on Christmas Day, Santi." Santana nodded again. She had already thought as much. Apart from the absence of her extended family, she hadn't heard from most of them since before the campaign advert was released.

"I'm sorry mami. You guys can still go if you want to." Santana's voice was small and vulnerable and she couldn't meet Sofia's eyes, making Sofia's heart break.

"Oh! Santi! No, we would never go without you." She moved her hand to cup Santana's cheek. "That wasn't – no Santana. Christmas is a time to fill with those who love you." Santana's eyes lifted to Sofia's, an idea beginning to form.

"Mami, what about going to the Pierce's? they always have loads of family, three more won't make a difference, and we could, I dunno, bring some food along too."

Sofia sighed. She was hoping that Santana wouldn't have suggested that.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: 6****th**** December 2012:**

Sofia was finally on her first break of the day, after two emergency surgeries and being caught up in an A and E consultation that it turned out had nothing to do with her anyway, but still took an hour to get to that point. She was sitting in the doctor's lounge, coffee in one hand, the other pressing her phone to her ear as she nervously held her breath whilst it rang.

"Hello?" Annie Pierce sounded breathless and distracted.

"Annie, it's Sofia. I was just wondering if you had definite family traditions for Christmas at all?" Sofia was always direct, not seeing the point in being vague.

"Um, well, we usually have the family over, there's quite a few of us. Everyone pitches in with food and clearing up and looking after the children. It's chaotic, but it's always nice to have the family around. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to, maybe combine our family celebrations this year? I'm sure Brittany has told you how Santana's Abuela feels about their relationship, which means that it'll just be the three of us otherwise."

Annie paused uncomfortably. "Oh, Sofia, I would, but I've got so many people that will be here already, and, well, not all of them know about Brittany and Santana. It would be unfair to put them and the girls in that position, and I would hate to ask them to hide their relationship. I'm really sorry."

"No, don't worry about it. What with how much you've got to do, it was a little short notice."

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: 17****th****-22****nd**** December 2012: Santana's House:**

"Oh." Santana breathed out. "Well, that's, understandable I suppose." Santana couldn't help the sadness bleeding through her words.

Sofia gently pinched at Santana's cheek before pulling her hand away. "Yeah, I'm sorry Santi. But I thought we could start a new tradition this year, just the three of us and in the afternoon you could go and see Brittany if you wanted to; but I don't know if you'll be able to of course. And, also," Sofia sighed again and dropped her gaze to Santana's hands. "And papi and I are working up until Christmas Eve this year. I know usually we wind down how much work we do over the Christmas period, but there are lots of doctors with –"

"Family's that actually love them and want them around. Yeah I get it mum."

"I was going to say young families. I'm sorry Santana, it's not us ignoring you or anything, we thought you would be spending time with Brittany, and it's too late to change it."

"No, it's fine. Brittany's just got lots of busy family stuff going on right now. I've got reading to do anyway, so it's okay. Thanks for telling me though. And cooking." Santana smiled.

Sofia laughed softly before reaching through the wooden slates and patting at Santana's stomach. "Yeah, you and your father are exactly the same, feed you and you will be loyal and loving forever." Santana nodded again. "Okay, I have to go back to the hospital, there are leftovers in the fridge and papi will be home early tonight, so he will probably eat with you. I love you Santi. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Love you too mami." Santana stayed at on the stairs as she heard the door click closed. She hadn't always had the best relationship with her parents, but after their unexpected unconditional support when she was outed and their defence of her against her Abuela, they had become much closer. And much more open, both emotionally and physically with each other.

Even with the changes that her family had gone through, that was defiantly something she wouldn't have changed. It was nice to know that her parents would always be on her side and that they loved her.

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: 25****th**** December 2012: Brittany's House:**

They hadn't spoken in a couple of days, what with Santana decorating the house by herself (she figured there was no reason for the house to not _look_ like their usual Christmas, and putting up the decorations and organising the decoration of the tree was always one of her favourite parts of Christmas) and Brittany was chasing around after young cousins.

Now, Santana was stood nervously outside of Brittany's front door. She had no idea why she was feeling so nervous, but her stomach was twisting uncomfortably and she could feel the sweat prickling along her hair line and building in the creases of her palms even in the biting wind; she had stood in front of this door so often, she knew it better than her own.

She had just picked up the courage to reach for the doorbell, when the door was enthusiastically pulled opened and one of Brittany's uncles (Santana could never keep track of them, they all looked so similar and both of the Pierce's were from very large families) startling slightly at her hovering on the doorstep.

"Oh." He blinked twice before recognition spread across his face and he smiled. "You're Brittany's girl right? Um, Sam?"

Santana's mouth opened in shock. She didn't realise that Brittany had told her extended family about them being together, and it took a few seconds for his second question to register. "Yeah, um, yeah, I'm Brittany's girlfriend. Santana, San."

"Right, right. She's in the family room, surrounded by several loud small children, so your taking your life in your hands there." He winked at her before moving past her and towards one of the many cars parked along the drive way and the pavement.

"Thanks." Santana shook her head, as if to clear it, before walking through the open door and into the family room that was buzzing with voices, adult and child. In the middle of the floor was a mountain of multi-coloured wrapping paper and plain brown boxes and decorative boxes and discarded glittering tags, along with Brittany who was trying to stop one of her infant cousins from eating the paper. Santana couldn't stop the giggle at the sight, and at the sound Brittany turned towards her, nose scrunching in a smile.

"Sanny!"

"Happy Christmas BrittBritt." Brittany pulled herself and the baby off the floor, before desperately looking around the room for an adult to pass the baby off to so she could go and hug Santana. They met halfway across the room, arms instantly wrapping around one another and Santana nuzzling into Brittany's neck comfortably.

"Merry Christmas Sanny. Sorry I didn't text you this morning."

"'Sokay. I didn't expect one, I knew your family was here." They detangled only when Annie walked into the room, surprised at seeing Santana.

"I didn't know you were coming."

"Um, hi Annie. I hope it's okay, I just thought I would come around for a little while to see Britt and get out of the house." Annie nodded warmly before hugging Santana and pecking her on the cheek.

"Yeah, of course. Don't worry about the kids Britt, go and spend some time with Santana."

* * *

**Lima, Ohio: Saturday 12****th**** January 2013:**

Brittany was lying on Santana's bed absentmindedly pulling at the edge of the pillow underneath her head, waiting for Santana to get out of the shower.

They hadn't manage to see much of each other over the few weeks off, and so had put aside this weekend to spend together before going back to California for the next semester. Brittany was just about to get up and start pacing (she never could keep still for very long, especially knowing that there was a naked Santana near) when she heard the bathroom lock click, followed by quick, gentle padding on the carpet and Santana appeared in the doorway, smirking slightly wrapped only in a towel.

"Finally!" Brittany exclaimed, winking. "I thought I was going to have to physically remove you from the shower. Not that I would have minded." Santana giggled before pulling out underwear and sweats.

"I'm just making the most of having a shower that is actually hot, had decent pressure and I don't have to worry about several other girls banging on the door, or getting tired of waiting and unlocking the from the other side!" Brittany stuck her tongue out at her before smiling and opening her arms to Santana.

"Are you looking forward to going back?"

Santana stiffened and hesitated as she pulled at the drawstring of her sweatpants. "Kinda. I don't know how I feel about seeing George again, though."

"Just talk to her. It must have been a big shock, but I'm sure she will understand why you didn't tell anyone if you talk to her."

Santana nodded, nuzzling deeper into Brittany's body. "Can we watch a film Britt? I want something completely brainless before I going into overdrive back in California next week."

Brittany giggled softly, before kissing the top of Santana's head and wriggling out from underneath her towards the TV. "Sure thing."

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Monday 14****th**** January 2013:**

The weekend had passed far too quickly for both Santana and Brittany's liking, and soon enough they were hastily stuffing cleaned clothes and stray books into their bags before heading towards the internal airport and back to California. Brittany had fallen asleep almost as soon as they had settled, fingers gently tangled together on the seat rest between them, but Santana couldn't sleep with her brain throwing up scenario after scenario of what would happen when she saw George again.

Now that she was back in her familiar dorm, she was even more nervous about what would happen, and her scenarios were getting increasingly unrealistic and twisted. She sighed and shook her head as if to rid them of her thoughts, deciding that unpacking would distract her to some extent, when she heard a knock on the opened door to her room.

She turned, expecting to see the dorm rep or maybe Alice, her eyes widening in surprise and a little fear when she saw who was there.

"George!"

* * *

A/N: Hope that was okay. Let me know any mistakes.

Reviews pleeeeease? Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys! Remember me? I can't apologise enough for the horrible lateness of this. Combination of factors; I lost my motivation with this story a little (as narcissistic and attention seeking as this is going to sound) mostly because my reviews had dropped and I didn't know if people were still reading; and this story, with planning, research, editing ect takes a lot out of me! I've also just started university, so I moved 330miles and had student finance lose my loan application paperwork, and therefore had no money for food or books and stressing that the loan won't have been approved before my first payments for my housing and tuition are due. Plus, the university I'm at, is one of the best in the country for my course, which means that its really full on, and I need a pretty high pass rate in order to get a placement in my third year. Also, I got into the first team for my university's rugby team, therefore lots of training and my one free day from uni is game day, plus I have dancing lessons, plus work! SO. Here we go! Hopefully the updates will be a little bit more regular again now!

Oh, and a big thank you to those of you who _have_ reviewed (especially my last few!) because you are part of the reason I'm sat here on this really nice, crisp winter day, when I have a tutorial presentation, an eposter and more work than I can organise to do, typing this instead!

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Monday 14****th**** January 2013:**

"Hey Santana." George was leant against the door frame, just outside of the threshold of Santana's room, hands shoved in her pockets.

Santana opened her mouth, but her tongue was dry and the words failed. She smiled nervously, clasping her hands tightly, avoiding George's gaze as much as possible.

"So," George cleared her throat. "So, I saw you dragging your stuff along the corridor. You know, it has wheels. Or you could have fluttered your eyelashes at one of the boys; I'm sure they would have been more than willing to help."

George's tone was not unkind, but Santana flinched at the inference. "Britt's little sister broke the wheels playing stair-sled with it."

George scoffed and crossed her arms, taking a couple of steps backwards, away from Santana. "Really? That's all you have to say?" Santana straightened her posture defiantly, but couldn't hold George's gaze for long. "I knew this was a bad idea. Why would you feel sorry about what you said now? Fuck this."

George turned and started to walk away and Santana felt like she had been unfrozen, stumbling forwards after her. "No! George! Wait. Shit." George stopped, but didn't turn around. Santana's heart was pounding fast, painfully, and she felt like everything she knew she wanted and needed to say was slipping through her fingers like clear water, offering no help.

"I…shit, I'm so sorry about what I said. It was thoughtless and horrible and…and I felt like such a bitch for saying it." Santana could feel tears gathering and she took a deep breath before continuing. "I panicked. I panicked and I tried to make myself fell normal. Whatever the fuck that means. I've had to hide this part of myself from everyone for so long; I've even lost some family members because of it. Then spending so long hiding, even from myself, that I was gay. And then when I was publicly outted, I lost even more family members, and had to deal with the repercussions of a small-town reaction. I panicked George and I am so sorry."

George turned, her face blank, and Santana momentarily thought that everything was okay. Then George spoke, her voice cold and detached. "Oh, poor you. You've had such a hard life. Because I never had to deal with loosing family members. Because I didn't struggle for a long time with feeling like I was in the wrong body. Because I never had to deal with bullshit from ignorant classmates." George was breathing heavily, and her face was blotchy, throat thickening with tears. George sighed, her voice softening. "This was a mistake. It was too soon."

Santana stood speechless, watching George walk back down the corridor.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Saturday 26****th**** January 2013:**

It had been over a week since Santana had seen George, and what with exams and a steadily increasing work load, she had managed to avoid accidently bumping into her, and anyone else. She flopped onto her bed, exhausted and ready for a few hours of brainless DVD watching before an early night, when someone knocking on her door sounded around the room.

She sighed before pushing herself off the bed and yanked open the door, ready to tell the person on the other side to fuck off and leave her alone. But as soon as the lock clicked open, the door was pushed from the other side, and Santana's arms were grabbed by two people on each side. She was then marched down to George's room and pushed down onto the bed, where an equally angry looking George was already sat with her arms tightly crossed over her cheast.

"Right." Hannah said, stepping infront of them. "You two have been ignoring each other and acting like petulant children for too long. You are going to sit here until you have sorted out whatever the hell happened between you, and those that need to apologise, apologise, and those that need to forgive, forgive."

"I'm not forgiving her –"

"I already _have _apologised –"

"You call that an apology –"

"Aw, you won't forgive me? Bummer –"

"Enough!" Hannah shouted over George and Santana's objections. "Alice and I are sick of this! You can't go on like this! It doesn't just affect you two, it means that we have to pick sides. It means that we have to try and divide our time between you, and not mention the other's name and remember to tell you both everything, because God forbid we should tell one of you something and not tell the other."

"Or, in Santana's case, it means you ignore everyone and act like you never wanted friends or any kind of social interactions in the first place." Alice said, kicking at Santana's feet.

Santana huffed and rolled her eyes before nervously pushing her hair back over her shoulder. "Whatever."

"No, not 'whatever' Santana! You guys can't keep this up. And we are going to sit right here and not let you out until it's sorted." Alice sat down on the desk chair, crossed arms mirroring Santana, and raised her eyebrow in challenge. Hannah sighed and leant against the desk, eyes flickering nervously between George and Santana as if waiting to see which one would explode first.

Several seconds ticked past, both girls sitting with their arms folded and deliberately ignoring the other. Finally, George sighed.

"Why should I forgive her? Why should I forgive the ignorant self-loathing princess?"

Santana's jaw dropped in shock and shot to her feet, loaming over George, eyes dark and swirling. "What did you just call me?" Her voice was whispered snake like, nostrils flared and her heart was pounding so hard she could feel her ears throbbing with its intensity.

"Oh don't go on the defensive! The first thing you did was try to explain away the compression pants, trying to make sure that I knew you weren't a freak like I am right? Letting me know that you were better than me!" George stood, pushing at Santana's shoulders and forcing her to take a step back. "I get that not everything went smoothly for you Santana, but fuck, you were popular, you were a cheerleader, you had, have, a fucking girlfriend who worships the ground you walk on and is there for you all the fucking time. What –"

"Well, at least you'll be happy about that then, because Britt, not so fucking fantastic as you think. And defiantly not there for me right now." Santana's voice broke, and her eyes went wide as she pressed her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Oh Santana." Hannah breathed into the otherwise silent room.

"Whatever it doesn't matter." Santana muttered, her gaze darting around the room to avoid catching anyone's eye. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said George. I just, panicked okay? Then I spoke before I thought and I was pissed about Christmas, so it all came out wrong."

George shrugged, hands nervously fiddling with the edge of the bed spread.

She didn't know how she felt about everything or how to respond to Santana. Everything Santana had said, had been said before, but it hurt more coming from someone you expect to find understanding and compassion from. And as much as George understood that Santana's route to personal acceptance and comfort about herself was difficult, she isn't the only person with that experience, and it shouldn't be used as an excuse. But hearing the hurt and confusion in Santana's voice about Brittany made George worry.

Santana sighed, shaking her head. "Right, okay, well. I have a paper to write, so as fun as this whole lame arse intervention has been, I'm out."

"No, Santana, wait –" Alice reached for Santana's arm, but she twisted away and pulled open the door, marching out.

* * *

Santana leant her head against her door once it was firmly closed, and at the solid, loud click of the lock, her chin trembled and her eyes squeezed shut as tears started to fall down her face. She hadn't realised quite how much Brittany's distance over December had affected her. How much it hurt and how many doubts it had planted.

She couldn't believe how much she had messed up with George either, and how easily reverting back to being callous and shutting herself off had been.

She blindly reached for her cell phone, pressing the speed dial for Brittany's number, but before she could press call, memories of hearing nothing more than ringing and ignored texts flashed through her mind and she threw her phone in the bed in frustration.

Twisting her body around so that her back was flush against the wood of the door, Santana slid down onto the floor and brought her knees up to press under her chin. The room slowly darkened around her as the light from the sun coming in through the window weakened, and Santana didn't move until the jarring ring of her alarm clock jolted her awake the next morning.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Wednesday 30****th**** January 2013:**

Santana was walking back from her American Literature class, her face turned upwards to catch the pale rays of the winter sun when she walked straight into someone else hurrying in the opposite direction.

The expected mumbled apology was out into the crisp, cool air before she even registered who it was that she walking into, and at their response her heart skipped a beat.

"George. Hey."

"Hey." Neither moved away, but neither could bring themselves to start the conversation. Santana shivered slightly as the wind lifted the back of her hair, and she shoved her hands deeper into her pockets, but refused to move. George shook her head, and laughed coldly. "Man, you are so fucking stubborn! You won't talk to me. You won't even admit you're fucking cold!"

"I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry for what I said and that everything came out completely wrong and messed up." Santana cleared her throat, straightening her posture and trying to meet George's eyes unflinchingly. "I panicked. There is no way I think I'm better than you. At all. I just, fuck, I messed up. I'm sorry."

George was silent for several seconds before pulling Santana into a tight hug. It lasted barely a second, but Santana instantly felt lighter and happier than she had in almost two months.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Saturday 02****nd**** February 2013:**

The elation from beginning to work things out with George hadn't lasted long. Santana had tried calling Brittany afterwards and her call had been directed to voicemail. It had been several hours before her cell phone buzzed with Brittany's returning call, and out of annoyance, Santana had let it ring until her voicemail cut in. Her phone buzzed again two more times, but when she checked, Brittany hadn't left a message, and Santana threw the phone across the room in anger before turning over and trying to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Sooo…I know this was short, and I've checked it, but only once, so any mistakes let me know! I don't know when I will update this, but I can promise it won't be as long a break as before! Haha!

Review, please? Even if it's to tell me this is now crap or something!

Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

Hi guys! Longer than I thought, but not as long as last time since I updated! Woo! Super busy at the moment. We've got some really important games coming up, so I'm trying to keep my fitness up now I'm back home, plus a ridiculous amount of exams next semester and a couple of essays due then too! Wooohooo haha I also really wanted to get something out before Christmas, and I have a concert all day tomorrow, then family coming Monday, sooo…this was my only chance! I've very quickly proof read it, but not very well, so any mistakes let me know! Hope you enjoy this!

Review? Please?

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Saturday 26****th**** January 2013:**

Santana sighed, shaking her head. "Right, okay, well. I have a paper to write, so as fun as this whole lame arse intervention has been, I'm out."

"No, Santana, wait –" Alice reached for Santana's arm, but she twisted away and pulled open the door, marching out. They both flinched as the door slammed behind Santana, sitting in stunned silence for several long ticks of George's bedside clock, before Alice turned fully to George. "Soo, what was that little cryptic argument about huh?"

George shrugged before shuffling at the few papers on her desk, not meeting Alice or Hannah's eyes. "Look, thanks for trying and stuff, but, um, I've got work to do too. And my laundry. And I need to um, cook. And stuff."

Alice opened her mouth to argue, but Hannah quickly stepped in front of her. "Yeah sure George. We understand. We'll see you later." Hannah smiled before turning towards the door, steering Alice with her.

As soon as they reached Alice's room, Hannah let go of her arms. "What the hell was that for? And way was George acting so weird? I'm sure Santana wouldn't mind us knowing anyway!"

Hannah raised her eyebrows disbelievingly and Alice rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay, so Santana probably would. But she needs to get over that! What can have happened that could have caused that kind of reaction from George?"

Hannah flopped onto the bed, scratching nervously at her nose. "You really can't think of anything?"

Alice widened her eyes at Hannah. "No! That's would be why I said 'What can have happened' smartarse!"

Hannah sighed, shifting uncomfortably, whilst Alice waited as patiently as she could. Hannah had had no suspicion that Santana was anything other than cis female, but hearing them discussing compression pants, and George being classed as a freak, all the while carefully stepping around naming the actual reason for their argument, made Hannah wonder. She knew what compression pants were for; she had seen George's a couple of times, who had been willing to explain to Hannah their purpose.

"I don't know if I can say Al." Hannah said quietly.

"What you mean 'can't say'" Alice said angrily. "What kind of bullshit response is that? What I'm not cool enough or special enough to be in some kind of secret club you and George have got going on?" Hannah shook her head, unsure how to explain herself without saying anything Alice didn't already know. "Well, then, what?"

Hannah opened and closed her mouth, before her shoulders slumped and she sighed. "I can't say what I think, because I don't know how much and what you know about George and what she has had to, _has to _go through in order for people to see her as female. For people to see her as _her. _And I could be completely wrong."

Alice sat down next to Hannah on the bed, bottom lip caught in between her teeth in though, and stared at the floor unseeing. "But, Santana has tits. I've seen her cleavage. No way you can fake that without us noticing! Right?" Hannah shrugged, but Alice was still looking unfocused at the floor, more thinking and processing out loud than talking to and expecting an answer from Hannah. But then, she often gets at least partly changed in the bathroom…or away from us." Alice fell silent again, before turning towards Hannah. "Santana has tits." She said firmly, as if that ended the argument.

"Yeah. Fake ones. Or at the very least enhanced. Remember, she said she got a boob job when she was still in high school."

"Yeah, but sill. You can't possibly be suggesting that Santana isn't…wasn't born a girl. Right? I mean, we totally would have noticed!"

Hannah shrugged. "I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just saying, think about her and George's conversation. And, we had no idea that George wasn't cis female." Alice opened her mouth to argue, but Hannah playfully pushed at her. "Don't even _try _and pretend you did Al! I remember when George told us. You were just as surprised as me." Alice chuckled before pushing back at Hannah.

"Yeah, okay. But I _really _don't think that Santana has a dick. Or had one. Or was ever raised as a boy."

"Well, I'm not going to ask her, so I guess we'll just have to wait until one or both of them tell us what the argument was about."

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Thursday 7****th**** February 2013:**

Santana had resorted to emailing Brittany. They hadn't spoken in close to two weeks, with only the briefest of texts bouncing between the two. Santana hoped that if she sent Brittany a long email, she would respond in kind. Or maybe get a phone call.

Unfortunately, that hadn't happened. Santana received a brief, if cheery, email during which Brittany apologised for being busy, but with classes and rehearsals for both the undergrad dance show and the philosophy pantomime – Santana couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up imagining philosophy students writing a frivolous pantomime – and her dorm mates and course mates she had completely lost track of time. There were pictures too, of arrogant looking boys and superficial looking girls (what? Santana wasn't judging, she just _knew _these things okay?) that were stood far too close to Brittany or had their hands and arms far too intimately placed. Santana had slammed the lid of her laptop closed in anger after seeing them, and ignored the email for another day before replying.

But now she really needed to _talk _to Brittany. Brittany ringing her was unlikely to happen, and she refused to ring _her_. But her fingers subconsciously played with her phone non-the-less, and she would keep checking the screen of her laptop for Brittany's icon to appear on Skype.

It was close to midnight when Santana gave in and rang Brittany. Brittany picked up after only the second ring, and the speed at which she answered shocked Santana into silence for a few seconds.

"Hello gorgeous, sexy, amazing girlfriend. Did I mention sexy? Santana?"

"Britt, hey."

"Hi!" Brittany replied excitedly drawing out the vowel. "What's up Hunnypie?"

"I just wanted to talk to you about something. You free?" Santana could hear the distant thump of a base line and muted conversations in the silence before Brittany answered.

"Sure. Yeah. Sure. When?"

Santana frowned, confused. "What? I mean now of course!" There was another pause and Santana sighed in frustration. "You're drunk aren't you Britt?"

She heard that soft, musical giggle through the phone, followed by a noisy, over-exaggerated slurp. "Yup! I didn't know you were going to call Sanny. And I didn't know it would be something, like, serious. I can still listen though. I'll even leave the dancing room." Santana could hear the sincerity behind Brittany's words, but it did nothing to stop her feeling hurt and angry at Brittany.

"Never mind Brittany. Enjoy your party." Santana snapped, angrily pressing the end call button and yanked back the bed sheets. Tomorrow she would have to have one of the hardest conversations of her life, and her girlfriend was out getting drunk with her friends.

Friends with overly friendly hands.

The logical part of Santana's brain argued that Brittany had no way of knowing Santana would ring her, let alone ring her to have a serious conversation, but as she fell asleep, the hurt and angry part won out.

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Friday 8****th**** February 2013:**

"So, I guess you are wondering why I asked –"

"Summoned." Alice cut through.

"_Asked _you to come here."

"Orgy?"

"Formal dismissal as friends?"

"No! You're actually straight and are eloping!"

Santana rolled her eyes good naturedly before holding her hands up in surrender as Alice opened her mouth again. "Desist! No to all of those, frankly ridiculous, suggestions, but if there are any more, I might just consider ditching _you _as a friend Al!" Alice clutched her heart dramatically, before mouthing 'Me?'

"The reason you guys are here is because, as part of my agreement with George when we reconciled, I, um, have to tell you guys something."

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Sunday 3****rd**** February 2013:**

George smiled as she saw Santana approach the bench that was hidden by trees in one of the far corners of one of the many parks. Deciding to not let the meeting begin awkwardly, George stood and held her arms open for a hug. Santana instantly relaxed into them before holding on tightly.

"Hey you." George said through a smile.

"Hey. So," Santana straightened, moving to sit on the bench, and crossing her legs carefully. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"You may not like it, but I think it's important. So before I say it, I want you to promise to not react instinctually. Think it over for a few seconds at least before you answer me. Promise?" Santana nodded slowly. She always thought promises like this were silly. How could you promise not to react a certain way when you had no idea what was going to be discussed? But the reconciliation with George was still fresh, and she wasn't going to anything to deliberately jeopardise it. So she nodded and hoped that she would be able to stick to that promise.

"Okay, well, I think you should tell Hannah and Alice what we were arguing about." Santana's eyes widened in shock, flashing with insecurity and fear as her mouth popped open. George quickly held her hands up between them and continued. "I don't mean now, or tomorrow or even next week. And I'm certainly not going to say anything to them. But I think they deserve to know. They love you. They aren't going to judge you for this, or treat you any differently, and they won't tell anyone else either."

Santana sighed and ran her fingers lightly over the wood grain and the letters carved into the old, soft, greyed wood over the years. "But what if they get angry that I didn't tell them sooner. Like you did." She whispered. "I can't take another argument like the one I had with you."

George tugged at Santana's hand and threaded their fingers together loosely. "They won't. I was angry for an intirely different reason. I told you something so similar in a lot of ways – and it was so hard for me to tell you – that when I saw the compression pants, I at first thought that it was exactly the same. That you were born physically male, and you hadn't shared that experience with me, even after I shared mine with you, because you didn't trust me, or because you thought you were better than me or something. It was stupid. And then when you said those things…well, I was angry. You were afraid. We both said things we didn't mean or regret. But this will be different. You won't have to tell them because they found out, you'll be telling them when you want to, in whatever way you want. And I can help if you need. But I think you should tell them. Soon. But I'm not going to make you."

"Has anyone ever told you that you ramble when you're nervous?"

George laughed before nodding. "Yes. Several times." They fell silent with only the quiet whisper of the wind pushing and pulling at leaves.

"I'll do it next weekend. Friday."

* * *

**Berkeley, California: Friday 8****th**** February 2013:**

"So, yeah, George came to me last week to suggest that I should tell you guys. And now I have. And you're not saying anything. Please say something. Anything."

Alice and Hannah sat still for several more seconds, before Hannah smiled widely and turned to Alice. "I told you!"

Shock and fear passed over Santana's face, when Hannah noticed she quickly leapt to her feet and pulled Santana towards her.

"No! No, not like that. I didn't know, like I didn't notice anything, it was just, as cryptic as you and George were being, you mentioned compression pants and George being a freak, and I put two and two together. I wouldn't have known otherwise." Santana relaxed into Hannah's hug, before realising Alice still hadn't said anything.

"Al? Are you, um, is everything, are we still okay?"

Alice looked blankly up at Santana before her gaze lowered to Santana's waistline. "How do you hide it so well. Are you really small?" Alice smirked and winked at Santana before both of them burst out laughing.

"I am not small! I'll have you know I've had no complaints!" Santana tried to look dominant, hands on her hips, but she was laughing so hard (at what she wasn't really sure, she was just so relieved there was no yelling) that she could barely stand up straight. She collapsed onto the bed next to Alice, pulling Hannah along with her. "You guys aren't mad I didn't tell you earlier?"

"No." Alice said as Hannah shook her head. "We get it. Just because you're with lesbians doesn't mean they are going to accept everyone. Unfortunately. Remember that bitch George had problems with Hannah?" On Santana's other side Hannah nodded sadly. "She was horrible! Said that people like George just supported homophobes calling anyone not straight a freak. She threatened to put notices up on campus 'warning' people about George and the trans guy who graduated last year, but the club captain of the LGBTQ society went to the principle, and she was stopped."

"Thank god!" George sighed.

"Yeah, so, we get it Santana. And it's not like you came from a place of unconditional love and acceptance both at your school and in your family! So we definatly get it." Hannah said, twisting one arm around Santana's waist, the other pulling George onto the bed with them.

"I'm so glad you guys are okay with this." Santana whispered.

"Yeah, yeah. Enough of this mushy crap! Are we going to order a couple of pizzas, drink that beer I _know _you've got stashed in the bathroom window and watch some shitty movies or what?" Alice said.

Santana laughed, before pulling herself up off the bed and throwing the phone towards Alice. "Pepperoni. Extra green peppers. No olives."

* * *

So, I know it was short. But I wanted to get something done before Christmas, so, I hope it was up to standard!

Please, please, please review :D I really do love them, and it's nice to know people still want to read this!


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